A 

c- 

rr\ 

A 

0 

0 

-n 

1 

m 

4 
2 

lAL 

7 

7 

1 

J* 

3 

—1 

1 

W.  SOMERSET  MAUGHAM 


THE    CIRCLE 


BY   W.  SOMERSET  MAUGHAM 

Plays: 

THE    EXPLORER 

MRS.    DOT 

A    MAN    OF    HONOUR 

PENELOPE 

JACK    STRAW 

LADY    FREDERICK 

THE    TENTH    MAN 

LANDED    GENTRY 

THE    UNKNOWN 

SMITH 

Novels: 

OF    HUMAN    BONDAGE 

THE    MOON    AND    SIXPENCE 

THE    TREMBLING    OF   A    LEAF 

LIZA    OF    LAMBETH 

MRS,    CRADDOCK 

THE    EXPLORER 

THE    MAGICIAN 

THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 


THE    LAND    OF   THE    BLESSED    VIRGIN 
{Sketches  and  Impressions  in  Andalusia) 


J HE    CIRCLE 

A  COMEDY  IN  THREE  ACTS 


BY 

W.  SOMERSET  MAUGHAM 


NEW  xiP  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1921, 
BY  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 

All  applications  regarding  the  Performance  Rights 
of  this  play  should  be  addressed  to  The  American 
Play  Company,  33   West    42nd  Street,  New   York. 


PRINTED  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


PERSONS  OF  THE  PLAY 

Clive  Champion-Cheney 

Arnold  Champion-Cheney,  M.P. 

Lord  Porteous 

Edward  Luton 

Lady  Catherine  Champion-Cheney 

Elizabeth 

Mrs.  Shenstone. 

The  action  takes  place  at  Aston-Adey,  Arnold  Champion- 
Cheney  s  house  in  Dorset. 


THE  FIRST  ACT 


THE    CIRCLE 


THE  FIRST  ACT 

The  Scene  is  a  stately  drawing-room  at  Aston-Adey,  with 
fine  pictures  on  the  zvalls  and  Georgian  furniture.  Aston- 
Adey  has  been  described,  with  many  illustrations,  in 
Country  Life.  It  is  not  a  house,  but  a  place.  Its  owner 
takes  a  great  pride  in  it,  and  there  is  nothing  in  the  room 
which  is  not  of  the  period.  Through  the  French  windows 
at  the  back  can  be  seen  the  beautiful  gardens  which  are 
one  of  the  features. 
It  is  a  fine  summer  morning. 

Arnold  comes  in.    He  is  a  man  of  about  thirty-five,  tall  and 
good-looking,  fair,  with  a  clean-cut,  sensitive  jace.    He 
has  a  look  that  is  intellectual,  but  somewhat  bloodless. 
He  is  very  well  dressed. 
Arnold.    [Calling.]  Elizabeth!    [He  goes  to  the  window 
and  calls  again.]   Elizabeth!    [He  rings  the   bell.    While 
he  is  waiting  he  gives  a  look  round  the  room.    He  slightly 
alters  the  position  of  one  of  the  chairs.    He  takes  an  orna- 
ment from  the  chimney-piece  and  blows  the  dust  from  it.\ 

[A  Footman  comes  in. 
Oh,  George!  see  if  you  can  find  Mrs.  Cheney,  and  ask 
her  if  she'd  be  good  enough  to  come  here. 
Footman.    Very  good,  sir. 

[The  Footman  turns  to  go. 
Arnold.     Who  is  supposed  to  look  after  this  room? 
Footman.     I  don't  know,  sir. 

Arnold.     I  wish  when  they  dust  they'd  take  care  to 
replace  the  things  exactly  as  they  were  before. 

9 


10  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

Footman.     Yes,  sir. 

Arnold.    [Dismissing  him.]    All  right. 

[The  Footman  goes  out.  He  goes  again  to  the  window 
and  calls. 

Arnold.  Elizabeth!  [77^  j^-^fj  Mrs.  Shenstone.]  Oh, 
Anna,  do  you  know  where  Elizabeth  is? 

[Mrs.  Shenstone  comes  in  from  the  garden.  She 
is  a  woman  of  forty ^  pleasant  and  of  elegant  appear- 
ance. 

Anna.    Isn't  she  playing  tennis. i* 

Arnold.  No,  I've  been  down  to  the  tennis  court. 
Something  very  tiresome  has  happened. 

Anna.    Oh? 

Arnold.    I  wonder  where  the  deiice  she  is. 

Anna.  When  do  you  expect  Lord  Porteous  and  Lady 
Kitty? 

Arnold.    They're  motoring  down  in  time  for  luncheon. 

Anna.  Are  you  sure  you  want  me  to  be  here?  It's 
not  too  late  yet,  you  know.  I  can  have  my  things  packed 
and  catch  a  train  for  somewhere  or  other. 

Arnold.  No,  of  course  we  want  you.  It'll  make  it 
so  much  easier  if  there  are  people  here.  It  was  exceedingly 
kind  of  you  to  come. 

Anna.    Oh,  nonsense! 

Arnold.  And  I  think  it  was  a  good  thing  to  have 
Teddie  Luton  down. 

Anna.    He  is  so  breezy,  isn't  he? 

Arnold.  Yes,  that's  his  great  asset.  I  don't  know 
that  he's  very  intelligent,  but,  you  know,  there  are  occa- 
sions when  you  want  a  bull  in  a  china  shop.  I  sent  one 
of  the  servants  to  find  Elizabeth. 

Anna.  I  daresay  she's  putting  on  her  shoes.  She  and 
Teddie  were  going  to  have  a  single. 

Arnold.  It  can't  take  all  this  time  to  change  one's 
shoes. 

Anna.  [With  a  smile.]  One  can't  change  one's  shoes 
without  powdering  one's  nose,  you  know. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  11 

[Elizabeth  comes  in.  She  is  a  very  pretty  creature 
in  the  early  twenties.  She  wears  a  light  summer 
frock. 

Arnold.  My  dear,  I've  been  hunting  for  you  ever>'^- 
where.    What  have  you  been  doing? 

Elizabeth.    Nothing!    I've  been  standing  on  my  head. 

Arnold.    My  father's  here. 

Elizabeth.    [Startled.]    Where.? 

Arnold.    At  the  cottage.    He  arrived  last  night. 

Elizabeth.    Damn! 

Arnold.  [Good-humouredly .\  I  wish  you  wouldn't  say 
that,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.  If  you're  not  going  to  say  "Damn"  when 
a  thing's  damnable,  when  are  you  going  to  say  "Damn"? 

Arnold.  I  should  have  thought  you  could  say,  "Oh, 
bother!"  or  something  like  that. 

Elizabeth.  But  that  wouldn't  express  my  sentiments. 
Besides,  at  that  speech  day  w^hen  you  were  giving  away 
the  prizes  you  said  there  were  no  synonyms  in  the  Eng- 
lish language. 

Anna.  [Smiling.]  Oh,  Elizabeth!  it's  very  unfair  to 
expect  a  politician  to  live  in  private  up  to  the  statements 
he  makes  in  public. 

Arnold.  I'm  always  willing  to  stand  by  anything 
I've  said.    There  are  no  synonyms  in  the  English  language. 

Elizabeth.  In  that  case  I  shall  be  regretfully  forced 
to  continue  to  say  "Damn"  whenever  I  feel  like  it. 

[Edward  Luton  shows  himself  at  the  window.  He  is 
an  attractive  youth  in  flannels. 

Teddie.    I  say,  what  about  this  tennis? 

Elizabeth.    Come  in.    We're  having  a  scene. 

Teddie.     [Entering.]     How  splendid!     What  about? 

Elizabeth.    The  English  language. 

Teddie.  Don't  tell  me  you've  been  splitting  your 
infinitives. 

Arnold.  [With  the  shadozv  of  a  frown.]  I  wish  you'd 
be  serious,  Elizabeth.    The  situation  is  none  too  pleasant. 


12  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

Anna.  I  think  Teddie  and  I  had  better  make  our- 
selves scarce. 

Elizabeth.  Nonsense!  You're  both  in  it.  If  there's 
going  to  be  any  unpleasantness  we  want  your  moral 
support.    That's  why  we  asked  you  to  come. 

Teddie.  And  I  thought  I'd  been  asked  for  my  blue 
eyes. 

Elizabeth.    Vain  beast !    And  they  happen  to  be  brown. 

Teddie.    Is  anything  up? 

Elizabeth.    Arnold's  father  arrived  last  night. 

Teddie.    Did  he,  by  Jove!    I  thought  he  was  in  Paris. 

Arnold.  So  did  we  all.  He  told  me  he'd  be  there  for 
the  next  month. 

Anna.    Have  you  seen  him  ? 

Arnold.  No!  he  rang  me  up.  It's  a  mercy  he  had  a 
telephone  put  in  the  cottage.  It  would  have  been  a  pretty 
kettle  of  fish  if  he'd  just  walked  in. 

Elizabeth.     Did  you  tell  him  Lady  Catherine  was 


commg 


Arnold.  Of  course  not.  I  was  flabbergasted  to  know 
he  was  here.  And  then  I  thought  we'd  better  talk  it 
over  first. 

Elizabeth.    Is  he  coming  along  here? 

Arnold.  Yes.  He  suggested  it,  and  I  couldn't  think 
of  any  excuse  to  prevent  him. 

Teddie.    Couldn't  you  put  the  other  people  off? 

Arnold.  They're  coming  by  car.  They  may  be  here 
any  minute.    It's  too  late  to  do  that. 

Elizabeth.    Besides,  it  would  be  beastly. 

Arnold.  I  knew  it  was  silly  to  have  them  here.  Eliza- 
beth insisted. 

Elizabeth.     After  all,  she  is  your  mother,  Arnold. 

Arnold.  That  meant  precious  little  to  her  when  she 
— went  away.  You  can't  imagine  it  means  very  much  to 
me  now. 

Elizabeth.  It's  thirty  years  ago.  It  seems  so  absurd 
to  bear  malice  after  all  that  time. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  13 

Arnold.  I  don't  bear  malice,  but  the  fact  remains 
that  she  did  me  the  most  irreparable  harm.  I  can  find 
no  excuse  for  her. 

Elizabeth.    Have  you  ever  tried  to.'' 

Arnold.  My  dear  Elizabeth,  it's  no  good  going  over 
all  that  again.  The  facts  are  lamentably  simple.  She 
had  a  husband  who  adored  her,  a  wonderful  position, 
all  the  money  she  could  want,  and  a  child  of  five.  And 
she  ran  away  with  a  married  man. 

Elizabeth.  Lady  Porteous  is  not  a  very  attractive 
woman,  Arnold.    [To  Anna.]    Do  you  know  her? 

Anna.    [Smiling.]    "Forbidding"  is  the  word,  I  think. 

Arnold.  If  you're  going  to  make  little  jokes  about  it, 
I  have  nothing  more  to  say. 

Anna.    I'm  sorry,  Arnold. 

Elizabeth.  Perhaps  your  mother  couldn't  help'her- 
self — if  she  was  in  love.? 

Arnold.  And  had  no  sense  of  honour,  duty,  or  decency  ? 
Oh,  yes,  under  those  circumstances  you  can  explain  a 
great  deal. 

Elizabeth.  That's  not  a  very  pretty  way  to  speak  of 
your  mother. 

Arnold.    I  can't  look  on  her  as  my  mother. 

Elizabeth.  What  you  can't  get  over  is  that  she  didn't 
think  of  you.  Some  of  us  are  more  mother  and  some  of 
us  more  woman.  It  gives  me  a  little  thrill  when  I  think 
that  she  loved  that  man  so  much.  She  sacrificed  her 
name,  her  position,  and  her  child  to  him. 

Arnold.  You  really  can't  expect  the  said  child  to  have 
any  great  affection  for  the  mother  who  treated  him  like 
that. 

Elizabeth.  No,  I  don't  think  I  do.  But  I  think 
it's  a  pity  after  all  these  years  that  you  shouldn't  be 
friends. 

Arnold.  I  wonder  if  you  realise  what  it  was  to  grow 
up  under  the  shadow  of  that  horrible  scandal.  Every- 
where, at  school,  and  at  Oxford,  and  afterwards  in  Lon- 


14  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

don,  I  was  always  the  son  of  Lady  Kitty  Cheney.  Oh, 
it  was  cruel,  cruel! 

Elizabeth.  Yes,  I  know,  Arnold.  It  was  beastly 
for  you. 

Arnold.  It  would  have  been  bad  enough  if  it  had 
been  an  ordinary  case,  but  the  position  of  the  people 
made  it  ten  times  worse.  My  father  was  in  the  House 
then,  and  Porteous — he  hadn't  succeeded  to  the  title — 
was  in  the  House  too;  he  was  Under-Secretary  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  and  he  was  very  much  in  the  public  eye. 

Anna.  My  father  always  used  to  say  he  was  the  ablest 
man  in  the  party.  Every  one  was  expecting  him  to  be 
Prime  Minister. 

Arnold.  You  can  imagine  what  a  boon  it  was  to  the 
British  public.  They  hadn't  had  such  a  treat  for  a 
generation.  The  most  popular  song  of  the  day  was 
about  my  mother.  Did  you  ever  hear  it?  "Naughty 
Lady  Kitty.     Thought  it  such  a  pity  .  .  ." 

Elizabeth.    [Interrupting.]    Oh,  Arnold,  don't! 

Arnold.  And  then  they  never  let  people  forget  them. 
If  they'd  lived  quietly  in  Florence  and  not  made  a  fuss 
the  scandal  would  have  died  down.  But  those  constant 
actions  between  Lord  and  Lady  Porteous  kept  on  remind- 
ing everyone. 

Teddie.    What  were  they  having  actions  about? 

Arnold.  Of  course  my  father  divorced  his  wife,  but 
Lady  Porteous  refused  to  divorce  Porteous.  He  tried 
to  force  her  by  refusing  to  support  her  and  turning  her 
out  of  her  house,  and  heaven  knows  what.  They  were 
constantly  wrangling  in  the  law  courts. 

Anna.    I  think  it  was  monstrous  of  Lady  Porteous. 

Arnold.  She  knew  he  wanted  to  marry  my  mother, 
and  she  hated  my  mother.    You  can't  blame  her. 

Anna.    It  must  have  been  very  difficult  for  them. 

Arnold.  That's  why  they've  lived  in  Florence.  Por- 
teous has  money.  They  found  people  there  who  were 
willing  to  accept  the  situation. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  15 

Elizabeth.  This  is  the  first  time  they've  ever  come 
to  England. 

Arnold.    My  father  will  have  to  be  told,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.    Yes. 

Anna.  [To  Elizabeth.]  Has  he  ever  spoken  to  you 
about  Lady  Kitty? 

Elizabeth.    Never. 

Arnold.  I  don't  think  her  name  has  passed  his  lips 
since  she  ran  away  from  this  house  thirty  years  ago. 

Teddie.    Oh,  they  lived  here? 

Arnold.  Naturally.  There  was  a  house-party,  and 
one  evening  neither  Porteous  nor  my  mother  came 
down  to  dinner.  The  rest  of  them  waited.  They 
couldn't  make  it  out.  My  father  sent  up  to  my  mother's 
room,  and  a  note  was  found  on  the  pin-cushion. 

Elizabeth.  [With  a  faint  smile.]  That's  what  they 
did  in  the  Dark  Ages. 

Arnold.  I  think  he  took  a  dislike  to  this  house  from 
that  horrible  night.  He  never  lived  here  again,  and 
when  I  married  he  handed  the  place  over  to  me.  He  just 
has  a  cottage  now  on  the  estate  that  he  comes  to  when  he 
feels  inclined. 

Elizabeth.    It's  been  very  nice  for  us. 

Arnold.  I  owe  everything  to  my  father.  I  don't 
think  he'll  ever  forgive  me  for  asking  these  people  to 
come  here. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  going  to  take  all  the  blame  on  my- 
self, Arnold. 

Arnold.  [Irritably.]  The  situation  was  embarrass- 
ing enough  anyhow.  I  don't  know  how  I  ought  to  treat 
them. 

Elizabeth.  Don't  you  think  that'll  settle  itself  when 
you  see  them? 

Arnold.  After  all,  they're  my  guests.  I  shall  try 
and  behave  like  a  gentleman. 

Elizabeth.  I  wouldn't.  We  haven't  got  central 
heating. 


16  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

Arnold.  [Taking  no  -notice.]  Will  she  expect  me  to 
kiss  her? 

Elizabeth.    [With  a  smile.]    Surely. 

Arnold.  It  always  makes  me  uncomfortable  when 
people  are  effusive. 

Anna.  But  I  can't  understand  why  you  never  saw 
her  before. 

Arnold.  I  believe  she  tried  to  see  me  when  I  was 
little,  but  my  father  thought  it  better  she  shouldn't. 

Anna.    Yes,  but  when  you  were  grown  up? 

Arnold.  She  was  always  in  Italy.  I  never  went  to 
Italy. 

Elizabeth.  It  seems  to  me  so  pathetic  that  if  you 
saw  one  another  in  the  street  you  wouldn't  recognise 
each  other. 

Arnold.    Is  it  my  fault? 

Elizabeth.  You've  promised  to  be  very  gentle  with 
her  and  very  kind. 

Arnold.  The  mistake  was  asking  Porteous  to  come 
too.  It  looks  as  though  we  condoned  the  whole  thing. 
And  how  am  I  to  treat  him?  Am  I  to  shake  him  by  the 
hand  and  slap  him  on  the  back?  He  absolutely  ruined 
my  father's  life. 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling.]  How  much  would  you  give 
for   a   nice   motor   accident   that   prevented   them    from 


commg 


Arnold.  I  let  you  persuade  me  against  my  better 
judgment,  and  I've  regretted  it  ever  since. 

Elizabeth.  [Good-humouredly .]  I  think  it's  very  lucky 
that  Anna  and  Teddie  are  here.  I  don't  foresee  a  very 
successful  party. 

Arnold.  I'm  going  to  do  my  best.  I  gave  you  my 
promise  and  I  shall  keep  it.  But  I  can't  answer  for  my 
father. 

Anna.    Here  is  your  father. 

[Mr.  Champion-Cheney  shows  himself  at  one  of  the 
French  windows. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  17 

C.-C.  May  I  come  in  through  the  window,  or  shall  I 
have  myself  announced  by  a  supercilious  flunkey? 

Elizabeth.     Come  in.    We've  been  expecting  you. 

C.-C.    Impatiently,  I  hope,  my  dear  child. 

[Mr.  Champion-Cheney  is  a  tall  man  in  the  early  six- 
ties, spare,  with  a  fine  head  of  gray  hair  and  an 
intelligent,  somewhat  ascetic  face.  He  is  very  care- 
fully dressed.  lie  is  a  man  who  makes  the  most  of 
himself.  He  bears  his  years  jaimtily.  He  kisses 
Elizabeth  and  then  holds  out  his  hand  to  Arnold. 

Elizabeth.  We  thought  you'd  be  in  Paris  for  another 
month. 

C.-C.  How  are  you,  Arnold.?  I  always  reserve  to  my- 
self the  privilege  of  changing  my  mind.  It's  the  only  one 
elderly  gentlemen  share  with  pretty  women. 

Elizabeth.    You  know  Anna. 

C.-C.  [Shaking  hands  with  her.]  Of  course  I  do. 
How  very  nice  to  see  you  here!    Are  you  staying  long? 

Anna.    As  long  as  I'm  welcome. 

Elizabeth.    And  this  is  Mr.  Luton. 

C.-C.    How  do  you  do?    Do  you  play  bridge? 

Luton.    I  do. 

C.-C.    Capital.    Do  you  declare  without  top  honours? 

Luton.    Never. 

C.-C.  Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  I  see  that 
you  are  a  good  young  man. 

Luton.    But,  like  the  good  in  general,  I  am  poor. 

C.-C.  Never  mind;  if  your  principles  are  right,  you 
can  play  ten  shillings  a  hundred  without  danger.  I  never 
play  less,  and  I  never  play  more. 

Arnold.     And  you — are  you  going  to  stay  long,  father? 

C.-C.    To  luncheon,  if  you'll  have  me. 

[Arnold  gives  Elizabeth  a  harassed  look. 

Elizabeth.    That'll  be  jolly. 

Arnold.  I  didn't  mean  that.  Of  course  you're  going 
to  stay  for  luncheon.  I  meant,  how  long  are  you  going 
to  stay  down  here? 


18  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

C.-C.    A  week. 

[There  is  a  moment's  pause.    Everyone  but  Champion- 
Cheney  is  slightly  embarrassed. 

Teddie.    I  think  we'd  better  chuck  our  tennis. 

Elizabeth.  Yes.  I  want  my  father-in-law  to  tell  me 
what  they're  wearing  in  Paris  this  week. 

Teddie.    I'll  go  and  put  the  rackets  away. 

[Teddie  goes  otct. 

Arnold.    It's  nearly  one  o'clock,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.    I  didn't  know  it  was  so  late. 

Anna.  [To  Arnold.]  I  wonder  if  I  can  persuade  you 
to  take  a  turn  in  the  garden  before  luncheon. 

Arnold.    [Jumping  at  the  idea.]    I'd  love  it. 

[Anna  goes  out  of  the  window,  and  as  he  follows  her  he 
stops  irresolutely. 
I  want  you  to  look  at  this  chair  I've  just  got.     I  think 
it's  rather  good. 

C.-C.    Charming. 

Arnold.  About  1750,  I  should  say.  Good  design,  isn't 
it.?     It  hasn't  been  restored  or  anything. 

C.-C.    Very  pretty. 

Arnold.    I  think  it  was  a  good  buy,  don't  you  ? 

C.-C.  Oh,  my  dear  boy!  you  know  I'm  entirely  ignorant 
about  these  things. 

Arnold.  It's  exactly  my  period  ...  I  shall  see  you  at 
luncheon,  then. 

[He  follows  Anna  through  the  window. 

C.-C.    Who  is  that  young  man? 

Elizabeth.  Mr.  Luton.  He's  only  just  been  demo- 
bilised. He's  the  manager  of  a  rubber  estate  in  the 
F.M.S. 

C.-C.  And  what  are  the  F.M.S.  when  they're  at 
home? 

Elizabeth.  The  Federated  Malay  States.  He  joined 
up  at  the  beginning  of  the  war.    He's  just  going  back  there. 

C.-C.  And  why  have  we  been  left  alone  in  this  very 
marked  manner? 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  19 

Elizabeth.    Have  we?    I  didn't  notice  it. 

C.-C.  I  suppose  it's  difficult  for  the  young  to  realise 
that  one  may  be  old  without  being  a  fool. 

Elizabeth.  I  never  thought  you  that.  Everyone 
knows  you're  very  intelligent. 

C.-C.  They  certainly  ought  to  by  now.  I've  told  them 
often  enough.    Are  you  a  little  nervous? 

Elizabeth.  Let  me  feel  my  pulse.  [She  puts  her  finger 
on  her  zvrist.]    It's  perfectly  regular. 

C.-C.  When  I  suggested  staying  to  luncheon  Arnold 
looked  exactly  like  a  dose  of  castor  oil. 

Elizabeth.    I  wish  you'd  sit  down. 

C.-C.  Will  it  make  it  easier  for  you ?  [He  takes  a  chair.] 
You  have  evidently  something  very  disagreeable  to  say 
to  me. 

Elizabeth.    You  won't  be  cross  with  me? 

C.-C.    How  old  are  you  ? 

Elizabeth.    Twenty-five. 

C.-C.    I'm  never  cross  with  a  woman  under  thirty. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  then  I've  got  ten  years. 

C.-C.    Mathematics? 

Elizabeth.    No.    Paint. 

C.-C.    Well? 

Elizabeth.  [Reflectively.]  I  think  it  would  be  easier  if 
I  sat  on  your  knees. 

C.-C.  That  is  a  pleasing  taste  of  yours,  but  you  must 
take  care  not  to  put  on  weight. 

[She  sits  dozen  on  his  knees. 

Elizabeth.    Am  I  boney? 

C.-C.    On  the  contrary.  .  .  .  I'm  listening. 

Elizabeth.    Lady  Catherine's  coming  here. 

C.-C.    Who's  Lady  Catherine? 

Elizabeth.    Your — Arnold's  mother. 

C.-C.    Is  she? 

[He  withdraws  himself  a   little  and  Elizabeth  gets 
up.  ^ 

Elizabeth.    You  mustn't  blame  Arnold.    It's  my  fault. 


20  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

I  insisted.  He  was  against  it.  I  nagged  him  till  he  gave 
way.    And  then  I  wrote  and  asked  her  to  come. 

C.-C.    I  didn't  know  you  knew  her. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't.  But  I  heard  she  was  in  London. 
She's  staying  at  Claridge's.  It  seemed  so  heartless  not  to 
take  the  smallest  notice  of  her. 

C.-C.    When  is  she  coming? 

Elizabeth.    We're  expecting  her  in  time  for  luncheon. 

C.-C.  As  soon  as  that?  I  understand  the  embarrass- 
ment. 

Elizabeth.  You  see,  we  never  expected  you  to  be 
here.    You  said  you'd  be  in  Paris  for  another  month. 

C.-C.  My  dear  child,  this  is  your  house.  There's  no 
reason  why  you  shouldn't  ask  whom  you  please  to  stay 
with  you. 

Elizabeth.  After  all,  whatever  her  faults,  she's 
Arnold's  mother.  It  seemed  so  unnatural  that  they 
should  never  see  one  another.  My  heart  ached  for  that 
poor  lonely  woman. 

C.-C.  I  never  heard  that  she  was  lonely,  and  she  cer- 
tainly isn't  poor. 

Elizabeth.  And  there's  something  else.  I  couldn't 
ask  her  by  herself.  It  would  have  been  so — so  insulting. 
I  asked  Lord  Porteous,  too. 

C.-C.    I  see. 

Elizabeth.    I  daresay  you'd  rather  not  meet  them. 

C.-C.  I  daresay  they'd  rather  not  meet  me.  I  shall 
get  a  capital  luncheon  at  the  cottage.  I've  noticed  you 
always  get  the  best  food  if  you  come  in  unexpectedly  and 
have  the  same  as  they're  having  in  the  servants'  hall. 

Elizabeth.  No  one's  ever  talked  to  me  about  Lady 
Kitty.  It's  always  been  a  subject  that  everyone  has 
avoided.    I've  never  even  seen  a  photograph  of  her. 

C.-C.  The  house  was  full  of  them  when  she  left.  I 
think  I  told  the  butler  to  throw  them  in  the  dust-bin.  She 
was  very  much  photographed. 

Elizabeth.    Won't  you  tell  me  what  she  was  like? 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  21 

C.-C.  She  was  very  like  you,  Elizabeth,  only  she  had 
dark  hair  instead  of  red. 

Elizabeth.    Poor  dear!  it  must  be  quite  white  now. 

C.-C.    I  daresay.    She  was  a  pretty  little  thing. 

Elizabeth.  But  she  was  one  of  the  great  beauties  of 
her  day.    They  say  she  was  lovely. 

C.-C.  She  had  the  most  adorable  little  nose,  like 
yours.  ... 

Elizabeth.    D'you  like  my  nose? 

C.-C.  And  she  was  very  dainty,  with  a  beautiful  little 
figure;  very  light  on  her  feet.  She  was  like  a  marquise 
in  an  old  French  comedy.    Yes,  she  was  lovely. 

Elizabeth.    And  I'm  sure  she's  lovely  still. 

C.-C.    She's  no  chicken,  you  know. 

Elizabeth.  You  can't  expect  me  to  look  at  it  as  you 
and  Arnold  do.  When  you've  loved  as  she's  loved  you 
may  grow  old,  but  you  grow  old  beautifully. 

C.-C.    You're  very  romantic. 

Elizabeth.  If  everyone  hadn't  made  such  a  mystery 
of  it  I  daresay  I  shouldn't  feel  as  I  do.  I  know  she  did  a 
great  wrong  to  you  and  a  great  wrong  to  Arnold.  I'm 
willing  to  acknowledge  that. 

C.-C.    I'm  sure  it's  very  kind  of  you. 

Elizabeth.  But  she  loved  and  she  dared.  Romance 
is  such  an  illusive  thing.  You  read  of  it  in  books,  but  it's 
seldom  you  see  it  face  to  face.  I  can't  help  it  if  it  thrills 
me. 

C.-C.  I  am  painfully  aware  that  the  husband  in  these 
cases  is  not  a  romantic  object. 

Elizabeth.  She  had  the  world  at  her  feet.  You  were 
rich.  She  was  a  figure  in  society.  And  she  gave  up  every- 
thing for  love. 

C.-C.  [Dryly.]  I'm  beginning  to  suspect  it  wasn't  only 
for  her  sake  and  for  Arnold's  that  you  asked  her  to  come 
here. 

Elizabeth.  I  seem  to  know  her  already.  I  think  her 
face  is  a  little  sad,  for  a  love  like  that  doesn't  leave  you 


22  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

gay,  it  leaves  you  grave,  but  I  think  her  pale  face  is  un- 
lined.     It's  like  a  child's. 

C.-C.  My  dear,  how  you  let  your  imagination  run  away 
with  you! 

Elizabeth.    I  imagine  her  slight  and  frail. 

C.-C.    Frail,  certainly. 

Elizabeth.  With  beautiful  thin  hands  and  white  hair. 
I've  pictured  her  so  often  in  that  Renaissance  Palace 
that  they  live  in,  with  old  Masters  on  the  walls  and 
lovely  carved  things  all  round,  sitting  in  a  black  silk  dress 
with  old  lace  round  her  neck  and  old-fashioned  diamonds. 
You  see,  I  never  knew  my  mother;  she  died  when  I  was 
a  baby.  You  can't  confide  in  aunts  with  huge  families  of 
their  own.  I  want  Arnold's  mother  to  be  a  mother  to  me. 
I've  got  so  much  to  say  to  her. 

C.-C.    Are  you  happy  with  Arnold  ? 

Elizabeth.    Why  shouldn't  I  be? 

C.-C.    Why  haven't  you  got  any  babies? 

Elizabeth.  Give  us  a  little  time.  We've  only  been 
married  three  years. 

C.-C.    I  wonder  what  Hughie  is  like  now! 

Elizabeth,    Lord  Porteous? 

C.-C.  He  wore  his  clothes  better  than  any  man  in 
London.  You  know  he'd  have  been  Prime  Minister  if 
he'd  remained  in  politics. 

Elizabeth.    What  was  he  like  then? 

C.-C.  He  was  a  nice-looking  fellow.  Fine  horseman. 
I  suppose  there  was  something  very  fascinating  about 
him.  Yellow  hair  and  blue  eyes,  you  know.  He  had  a 
very  good  figure.  I  liked  him.  I  was  his  parliamentary 
secretary.    He  was  Arnold's  godfather. 

Elizabeth.    I  know. 

C.-C.    I  wonder  if  he  ever  regrets! 

Elizabeth.    I  wouldn't. 

C.-C.    Well,  I  must  be  strolling  back  to  my  cottage. 

Elizabeth.    You're  not  angry  with  me? 

C.-C.    Not  a  bit. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  23 

[She  puts  up  her  face  for  him  to  kiss.  He  kisses  her 
on  both  cheeks  and  then  goes  out.  In  a  moment 
Teddie  is  seen  at  the  zvindow. 

Teddie.    I  saw  the  old  blighter  go. 

Elizabeth.    Come  in. 

Teddie.    Everything  all  right? 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  quite,  as  far  as  he's  concerned.  He's 
going  to  keep  out  of  the  way. 

Teddie.    Was  it  beastly.'' 

Elizabeth.  No,  he  made  it  very  easy  for  me.  He's  a 
nice  old  thing. 

Teddie.    You  were  rather  scared. 

Elizabeth.    A  little.    I  am  still.    I  don't  know  why. 

Teddie.  I  guessed  you  were.  I  thought  I'd  come  and 
give  you  a  little  moral  support.    It's  ripping  here,  isn't  it? 

Elizabeth.    It  is  rather  nice. 

Teddie.  It'll  be  jolly  to  think  of  it  when  I'm  back  in 
the  F.M.S. 

Elizabeth.    Aren't  you  homesick  sometimes? 

Teddie.    Oh,  everybne  is  now  and  then,  you  know. 

Elizabeth.  You  could  have  got  a  job  in  England  if 
you'd  wanted  to,  couldn't  you? 

Teddie.  Oh,  but  I  love  it  out  there.  England's  ripping 
to  come  back  to,  but  I  couldn't  live  here  now.  It's  like 
a  woman  you're  desperately  in  love  with  as  long  as  you 
don't  see  her,  but  when  you're  with  her  she  maddens  you 
so  that  you  can't  bear  her. 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling.]  What's  wrong  with  England? 
Teddie.  I  don't  think  anything's  wrong  with  England. 
I  expect  something's  wrong  with  me.  I've  been  away 
too  long.  England  seems  to  me  full  of  people  doing  things 
they  don't  want  to  because  other  people  expect  it  of  them. 
Elizabeth.  Isn't  that  what  you  call  a  high  degree  of* 
civilisation? 

Teddie.  People  seem  to  me  so  insincere.  When  you 
go  to  parties  in  London  they're  all  babbling  about  art, 
and  you  feel  that  in  their  hearts  they  don't  care  twopence 


24  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

about  it.  They  read  the  books  that  everybody  is  talking 
about  because  they  don't  want  to  be  out  of  it.  In  the 
F.M.S.  we  don't  get  very  many  books,  and  we  read  those 
we  have  over  and  over  again.  They  mean  so  much  to  us. 
I  don't  think  the  people  over  there  are  half  so  clever  as 
the  people  at  home,  but  one  gets  to  know  them  better. 
You  see,  there  are  so  few  of  us  that  we  have  to  make  the 
best  of  one  another. 

Elizabeth.  I  imagine  that  frills  are  not  much  worn  in 
the  F.M.S.     It  must  be  a  comfort. 

Teddie.  It's  not  much  good  being  pretentious  where 
everyone  knows  exactly  who  you  are  and  what  your 
income  is. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  think  you  want  too  much  sincerity 
in  society.  It  would  be  like  an  iron  girder  in  a  house  of 
cards. 

Teddie.  And  then,  you  know,  the  place  is  ripping. 
You  get  used  to  a  blue  sky  and  you  miss  it  in  England. 

Elizabeth.  What  do  you  do  with  yourself  all  the 
time  ? 

Teddie.  Oh,  one  works  like  blazes.  You  have  to  be  a 
pretty  hefty  fellow  to  be  a  planter.  And  then  there's 
ripping  bathing.  You  know,  it's  lovely,  with  palm  trees 
all  along  the  beach.  And  there's  shooting.  And  now  and 
then  we  have  a  little  dance  to  a  gramophone. 

Elizabeth.  [Pretending  to  tease  him.]  I  think  you've 
got  a  young  woman  out  there,  Teddie. 

Teddie.    [Fehemently.]    Oh,  no! 

[She  is  a  little  taken  aback  by  the  earnestness  of  his 
disclaimer.  There  is  a  moment s  silence,  then  she 
recovers  herself. 

Elizabeth.  But  you'll  have  to  marry  and  settle  down 
one  of  these  days,  you  know. 

Teddie.  I  want  to,  but  it's  not  a  thing  you  can  do 
lightly. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  know  why  there  more  than  else- 
where. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  25 

Teddie.  In  England  if  people  don't  get  on  they  go 
their  own  ways  and  jog  along  after  a  fashion.  In  a  place 
like  that  you're  thrown  a  great  deal  on  your  own  re- 
sources. 

Elizabeth.    Of  course. 

Teddie.  Lots  of  girls  come  out  because  they  think 
they're  going  to  have  a  good  time.  But  if  they're  empty- 
headed,  then  they're  just  faced  with  their  own  emptiness 
and  they're  done.  If  their  husbands  can  afford  it  they  go 
home  and  settle  down  as  grass-widows. 

Elizabeth.  I've  met  them.  They  seem  to  find  it  a 
very  pleasant  occupation. 

Teddie.    It's  rotten  for  their  husbands,  though. 

Elizabeth.    And  if  the  husbands  can't  afford  it? 

Teddie.    Oh,  then  they  tipple. 

Elizabeth.    It's  not  a  very  alluring  prospect. 

Teddie.  But  if  the  woman's  the  right  sort  she  wouldn't 
exchange  it  for  any  life  in  the  world.  When  all's  said  and 
done  it's  we  who've  made  the  Empire. 

Elizabeth.    What  sort  is  the  right  sort? 

Teddie.  A  woman  of  courage  and  endurance  and  sin- 
cerity. Of  course,  it's  hopeless  unless  she's  in  love  with 
her  husband. 

[He  is  looking  at  her  earnestly  and  she,  raising  her  eyes, 
gives  him  a  long  look.      There  is  silence  betzveen  them. 

Teddie.  My  house  stands  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  and 
the  cocoanut  trees  wind  down  to  the  shore.  Azaleas  grow 
in  my  garden,  and  camellias,  and  all  sorts  of  ripping 
flowers.  And  in  front  of  me  is  the  winding  coast  line, 
and  then  the  blue  sea. 

[A  pause. 
Do  you  know  that  I'm  awfully  in  love  with  you? 

Elizabeth.  [Gravely.]  I  wasn't  quite  sure.  I  won- 
dered. 

Teddie.    And  you? 

I've  never  kissed  you. 


[She  nods  sloivly. 


26  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

Elizabeth.    I  don't  want  you  to. 

[They   look   at  one   another  steadily.      They   are  both 
grave.     Arnold  comes  in  hurriedly. 
Arnold.    They're  coming,  Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth.    [As  though  returning  from  a  distant  world.] 
Who.? 

Arnold.      [Impatiently.]     My   dear!     My   mother,   of 
course.    The  car  is  just  coming  up  the  drive. 
Teddie.    Would  you  Hke  me  to  clear  out? 
Arnold.    No,  no!    For  goodness'  sake  stay. 
Elizabeth.    We'd  better  go  and  meet  them,  Arnold. 
Arnold.    No,  no;  I  think  they'd  much  better  be  shown 
in.     I  feel  simply  sick  with  nervousness. 

[Anna  comes  in  from  the  garden. 
Anna.    Your  guests  have  arrived. 
Elizabeth.    Yes,  I  know. 

Arnold,     I've  given  orders  that  luncheon  should  be 
served  at  once. 

Elizabeth.     Why?     It's   not   half-past  one   already, 
is  it? 

Arnold.     I  thought  it  would  help.     When  you  don't 
know  exactly  what  to  say  you  can  always  eat. 

[The  Butler  comes  in  and  announces. 
Butler.     Lady  Catherine  Champion-Cheney!     Lord 
Porteous! 

[Lady  Kitty  comes  in  followed  by  Porteous,  and  the 
Butler  goes  out.  Lady  Kitty  is  a  gay  little  lady, 
with  dyed  red  hair  and  fainted  cheeks.  She  is  some- 
what outrageously  dressed.  She  never  forgets  that  she 
has  been  a  pretty  woman  and  she  still  behaves  as  if 
she  were  twenty-five.  Lord  Porteous  is  a  very  bald, 
elderly  gentleman  in  loose,  rather  eccentric  clothes. 
He  is  snappy  and  gruff.  This  is  not  at  all  the  couple 
that  Elizabeth  expected,  and  for  a  moment  she  stares 
at  them  with  round,  startled  eyes.  Lady  KiTTY/go^j 
up  to  her  with  outstretched  hands. 
Lady  Kitty.     Elizabeth!    Elizabeth!     [She  kisses' her 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  27 

effusively.]    What  an  adorable  creature!    [Turning  to  PoR- 
TEOUS.]    Hughie,  isn't  she  adorable? 

PoRTEOUS.    [With  a  grunt.]    Ugh! 

[Elizabeth,  smiling  now,  turns  to  him  and  gives  him 
her  hand. 

Elizabeth.    Howd'youdo? 

PoRTEOUS.  Damnable  road  you've  got  down  here. 
How  d'you  do,  my  dear?  Why  d'you  have  such  damnable 
roads  in  England.'' 

[Lady  Kitty's  eyes  fall  on  Teddie  and  she  goes  up  to 
him  with  her  arms  thrown  hack,  prepared  to  throw 
them  round  him. 

Lady  Kitty.  My  boy,  my  boy!  I  should  have  known 
you  anywhere! 

Elizabeth.    [Hastily.]    That's  Arnold. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Without  a  moment's  hesitation.]  The 
image  of  his  father!  I  should  have  known  him  anywhere! 
[She  throws  her  arms  round  his  neck.]    My  boy,  my  boy! 

PoRTEOUS.    [With  a  grunt.]    Ugh! 

Lady  Kitty.  Tell  me,  would  you  have  known  me 
again?     Have  I  changed? 

Arnold.  I  was  only  five,  you  know,  when — when 
you  .  .  . 

Lady  Kitty.  [Emotionally.]  I  remember  as  if  it  was 
yesterday.  I  went  up  into  your  room.  [With  a  sudden 
change  of  manner.]  By  the  way,  I  always  thought  that 
nurse  drank.    Did  you  ever  find  out  if  she  really  did? 

PoRTEOUS.  How  the  devil  can  you  expect  him  to  know 
that,  Kitty? 

Lady  Kitty.  You've  never  had  a  child,  Hughie;  how 
can  you  tell  what  they  know  and  what  they  don't? 

Elizabeth.  [Coming  to  the  rescue.]  This  is  Arnold, 
Lord  Porteous. 

PoRTEOUS.  [Shaking  hands  with  him.]  How  d'you  do? 
I  knew  your  father. 

Arnold.     Yes. 

PoRTEOUS.    Alive  still? 


28  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

Arnold.    Yes. 

PoRTEOUS.    He  must  be  getting  on.    Is  he  well.? 

Arnold.    Very. 

PoRTEOUs.  Ugh!  Takes  care  of  himself,  I  suppose. 
I'm  not  at  all  well.  This  damned  climate  doesn't  agree 
with  me. 

Elizabeth.  [To  Lady  Kitty.]  This  is  Mrs.  Shen- 
stone.  And  this  is  Mr.  Luton.  I  hope  you  don't  mind 
a  very  small  party. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Shaking  hands  with  Anna  and  Teddie.] 
Oh,  no,  I  shall  enjoy  it.  I  used  to  give  enormous  parties 
here.  Political,  you  know.  How  nice  you've  made  this 
room! 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  that's  Arnold. 

Arnold.  [Nervously.]  D'you  like  this  chair?  I've 
just  bought  it.     It's  exactly  my  period. 

PoRTEOUS.    [Bluntly.]    It's  a  fake. 

Arnold.    [Indignantly.]    I  don't  think  it  is  for  a  minute. 

PoRTEOUS.    The  legs  are  not  right. 

Arnold.  I  don't  know  how  you  can  say  that.  If 
there  is  anything  right  about  it,  it's  the  legs. 

Lady  Kitty.    I'm  sure  they're  right. 

PoRTEOUS.  You  know  nothing  whatever  about  it, 
Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.  That's  what  you  think.  /  think  it's  a 
beautiful  chair.     Hepplewhite? 

Arnold.    No,  Sheraton. 

Lady  Kitty.    Oh,  I  know.    "The  School  for  Scandal." 

PoRTEOUS.    Sheraton,  my  dear.    Sheraton. 

Lady  Kitty.  Yes,  that's  what  I  say.  I  acted  the  screen 
scene  at  some  amateur  theatricals  in  Florence,  and  Ermeto 
Novelli,  the  great  Italian  tragedian,  told  me  he'd  never 
seen  a  Lady  Teazle  like  me. 

PoRTEOUS.     Ugh! 

Lady  Kitty.    [To  Elizabeth.]    Do  you  act? 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  I  couldn't.    I  should  be  too  nervous. 

Lady  Kitty.    I'm  never  nervous.    I'm  a  born  actress. 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  29 

Of  course,  if  I  had  my  time  over  again  I'd  go  on  the  stage. 
You  know,  it's  extraordinary  how  they  keep  young. 
Actresses,  I  mean.  I  think  it's  because  they're  always 
playing  different  parts.  Hughie,  do  you  think  Arnold 
takes  after  me  or  after  his  father?  Of  course  I  think  he's 
the  very  image  of  me.  Arnold,  I  think  I  ought  to  tell 
you  that  I  was  received  into  the  Catholic  Church  last 
winter.  I'd  been  thinking  about  it  for  years,  and  last 
time  we  were  at  Monte  Carlo  I  met  such  a  nice  mon- 
signore.  I  told  him  what  my  difficulties  were  and  he  was 
too  wonderful.  I  knew  Hughie  wouldn't  approve,  so  I 
kept  it  a  secret.  [To  Elizabeth.]  Are  you  interested  in 
religion?  I  think  it's  too  wonderful.  We  must  have  a 
long  talk  about  it  one  of  these  days.  [Pointing  to  her  frock.] 
Callot? 

Elizabeth.    No,  Worth. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  knew  it  was  either  Worth  or  Callot. 
Of  course,  it's  line  that's  the  important  thing.  I  go  to 
Worth  myself,  and  I  always  say  to  him,  "Line,  my  dear 
Worth,  line."    What  is  the  matter,  Hughie? 

PoRTEOUs.  These  new  teeth  of  mine  are  so  damned 
uncomfortable. 

Lady  Kitty.  Men  are  extraordinary.  They  can't 
stand  the  smallest  discomfort.  Why,  a  woman's  life  is 
uncomfortable  from  the  moment  she  gets  up  in  the  morn- 
ing till  the  moment  she  goes  to  bed  at  night.  And  d'you 
think  it's  comfortable  to  sleep  with  a  mask  on  your  face? 

PoRTEOUS.    They  don't  seem  to  hold  up  properly. 

Lady  Kitty.  Well,  that's  not  the  fault  of  your  teeth. 
That's  the  fault  of  your  gums. 

PoRTEOUS.  Damned  rotten  dentist.  That's  what's  the 
matter. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  thought  he  was  a  very  nice  dentist. 
He  told  me  my  teeth  would  last  till  I  was  fifty.  He  has  a 
Chinese  room.  It's  so  interesting;  while  he  scrapes  your 
teeth  he  tells  you  all  about  the  dear  Empress  Dowager. 
Are  you  interested  in  China?    I  think  it's  too  wonderful. 


30  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

You  know  they've  cut  off  their  pigtails.    I  think  it's  such 
a  pity.    They  were  so  picturesque. 

[The  Butler  comes  in. 

Butler.    Luncheon  is  served,  sir. 

Elizabeth.    Would  you  like  to  see  your  rooms? 

PoRTEOUS.    We  can  see  our  rooms  after  luncheon. 

Lady  Kitty.    I  must  powder  my  nose,  Hughie. 

Porteous.    Powder  it  down  here. 

Lady  Kitty.    I  never  saw  anyone  so  inconsiderate. 

Porteous.  You'll  keep  us  all  waiting  half  an  hour. 
I  know  you. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Fumbling  in  her  bag.]  Oh,  well,  peace  at 
any  price,  as  Lord  Beaconsfield  said. 

Porteous.  He  said  a  lot  of  damned  silly  things,  Kitty, 
but  he  never  said  that. 

[Lady  Kitty's  face  changes.    Perplexity  is  followed  by 
dismay,  and  dismay  by  consternation. 

Lady  Kitty.   Oh ! 

Elizabeth.    What  is  the  matter? 

Lady  Kitty.    [With  anguish.]    My  lip-stick! 

Elizabeth.    Can't  you  find  it? 

Lady  Kitty.  I  had  it  in  the  car.  Hughie,  you  remem- 
ber that  I  had  it  in  the  car. 

Porteous.    I  don't  remember  anything  about  it. 

Lady  Kitty.  Don't  be  so  stupid,  Hughie.  Why,  when 
we  came  through  the  gates  I  said:  "My  home,  my  home!" 
and  I  took  it  out  and  put  some  on  my  lips. 

Elizabeth.    Perhaps  you  dropped  it  in  the  car. 

Lady  Kitty.  For  heaven's  sake  send  some  one  to  look 
for  it. 

Arnold.    I'll  ring. 

Lady  Kitty.  I'm  absolutely  lost  without  my  lip-stick. 
Lend  me  yours,  darling,  will  you? 

Elizabeth.  I'm  awfully  sorry.  I'm  afraid  I  haven't 
got  one. 

Lady  Kitty.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  don't  use  a 
lip-stick  ? 


ACT  i]  THE  CIRCLE  31 

Elizabeth.    Never. 

PoRTEOUS.  Look  at  her  lips.  What  the  devil  d'you 
think  she  wants  muck  like  that  for? 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  my  dear,  what  a  mistake  you  make! 
You  must  use  a  lip-stick.  It's  so  good  for  the  lips.  Men 
like  it,  you  know.    I  couldn't  live  without  a  lip-stick. 

[Champion-Cheney  appears  at  the  window  holding  in 
his  upstretched  hand  a  little  gold  case. 
C.-C.    [As  he  comes  in.\    Has  anyone  here  lost  a  dimin- 
utive utensil  containing,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  a  favourite 
preparation  for  the  toilet? 

[Arnold  and  Elizabeth  are  thunderstruck  at  his  ap- 
pearance  and  even   Teddie    and  Anna   are   taken 
aback.    But  Lady  Kitty  is  overjoyed. 
Lady  Kitty.    My  lip-stick! 

C.-C.  I  found  it  in  the  drive  and  I  ventured  to  bring 
it  in. 

Lady  Kitty.  It's  Saint  Antony.  I  said  a  little  prayer 
to  him  when  I  was  hunting  in  my  bag. 

PoRTEOUs.  Saint  Antony  be  blowed!  It's  Clive,  by 
God! 

Lady  Kitty.  [Startled,  her  attention  suddenly  turning 
from  the  lip-stick.]    Clive! 

C.-C.  You  didn't  recognise  me.  It's  many  years  since 
we  met. 

Lady  Kitty.  My  poor  Clive,  your  hair  has  gone  quite 
white! 

C.-C.  [Holding  out  his  hand.]  I  hope  you  had  a  pleas- 
ant journey  down  from  London. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Offering  him  her  cheek.]  You  may  kiss 
me,  Clive. 

C.-C.    [Kissing  her.]    You  don't  mind,  Hughie  ? 
PoRTEOUS.    [With  a  grunt.]    Ugh! 

C.-C.  [Going  up  to  him  cordially.]  And  how  are  you,  my 
dear  Hughie? 

PoRTEOUS.  Damned  rheumatic  if  you  want  to  know. 
Filthy  climate  you  have  in  this  country. 


32  THE  CIRCLE  [act  i 

C.-C.  Aren't  you  going  to  shake  hands  with  me, 
Hughie? 

PoRTEOUS.  I  have  no  objection  to  shaking  hands  with 
you. 

C.-C.    You've  aged,  my  poor  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.  Some  one  was  asking  me  how  old  you  were 
the  other  day. 

C.-C.    Were  they  surprised  when  you  told  them  ? 

PoRTEOUS.  Surprised!  They  wondered  you  weren't 
dead. 

[The  Butler  conies  in. 

Butler.    Did  you  ring,  sir? 

Arnold.    No.    Oh,  yes,  I  did.    It  doesn't  matter  now. 

C.-C.  [Js  the  Butler  is  going.]  One  moment.  My 
dear  Elizabeth,  I've  come  to  throw  myself  on  your  mercy. 
My  servants  are  busy  with  their  own  affairs.  There's  not 
a  thing  for  me  to  eat  in  my  cottage. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  but  we  shall  be  delighted  if  you'll 
lunch  with  us. 

C.-C.  It  either  means  that  or  my  immediate  death 
from  starvation.    You  don't  mind,  Arnold.'' 

Arnold.    My  dear  father! 

Elizabeth.  [To  the  Butler.]  Mr.  Cheney  will  lunch 
here. 

Butler.    Very  good,  ma'am. 

C.-C.  [To  Lady  Kitty.]  And  what  do  you  think  of 
Arnold  ? 

Lady  Kitty.    I  adore  him. 

C.-C.  He's  grown,  hasn't  he?  But  then  you'd  expect 
him  to  do  that  in  thirty  years. 

Arnold.    For  God's  sake  let's  go  in  to  lunch,  Elizabeth! 


end  of  the  first  act 


THE  SECOND  ACT 


THE  SECOND  ACT 

The  Scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  preceding  Act. 
It  is  afternoon.     When  the  curtain  rises   Porteous  and 
Lady  Kitty,  Anna  and  Teddie  are  playing  bridge. 
Elizabeth    and    Champion-Cheney    are   watching. 
Porteous  and  Lady  Kitty  are  partners. 

C.-C.    When  will  Arnold  be  back,  Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth.    Soon,  I  think. 

C.-C.    Is  he  addressing  a  meeting? 

Elizabeth.  No,  it's  only  a  conference  with  his  agent 
and  one  or  two  constituents. 

Porteous.  [Irritably.]  How  anyone  can  be  expected 
to  play  bridge  when  people  are  shouting  at  the  top  of 
their  voices  all  round  them,  I  for  one  cannot  understand. 

Elizabeth.    [Smiling.]    I'm  so  sorry. 

Anna.  I  can  see  your  hand,  Lord  Porteous. 

Porteous,  It  may  help  you. 

Lady  Kitty.  I've  told  you  over  and  over  again  to  hold 
your  cards  up.  It  ruins  one's  game  when  one  can't  help 
seeing  one's  opponent's  hand. 

Porteous.    One  isn't  obliged  to  look. 

Lady  Kitty.  What  was  Arnold's  majority  at  the  last 
election  ? 

Elizabeth.    Seven  hundred  and  something. 

C.-C.  He'll  have  to  fight  for  it  if  he  wants  to  keep  his 
seat  next  time. 

Porteous.    Are  we  playing  bridge,  or  talking  politics? 

Lady  Kitty.  I  never  find  that  conversation  interferes 
with  my  game. 

Porteous.  You  certainly  play  no  worse  when  you  talk 
than  when  you  hold  your  tongue. 

35 


36  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Lady  Kitty.  I  think  that's  a  very  offensive  thing  to 
say,  Hughie.  Just  because  I  don't  play  the  same  game 
as  you  do  you  think  I  can't  play. 

PoRTEOus.  I'm  glad  you  acknowledge  it's  not  the  same 
game  as  I  play.  But  why  in  God's  name  do  you  call  it 
bridge? 

C.-C.  I  agree  with  Kitty.  I  hate  people  who  play 
bridge  as  though  they  were  at  a  funeral  and  knew  their 
feet  were  getting  wet. 

PoRTEOus.    Of  course  you  take  Kitty's  part. 

Lady  Kitty.    That's  the  least  he  can  do. 

C.-C.     I  have  a  naturally  cheerful  disposition. 

PoRTEOus.    You've  never  had  anything  to  sour  it. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  that, 
Hughie. 

PoRTEOUs.  [Trying  to  contam  himself.]  Must  you 
trump  my  ace? 

Lady  Kitty.  [Innocently.]  Oh,  was  that  your  ace, 
darling? 

PoRTEOUs.     [Fvriously.]    Yes,  it  was  my  ace. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  well,  it  was  the  only  trump  I  had. 
I  shouldn't  have  made  it  anyway. 

PoRTEOus.  You  needn't  have  told  them  that.  Now 
she  knows  exactly  what  I've  got. 

Lady  Kitty.     She  knew  before. 

PoRTEOUS.    How  could  she  know? 

Lady  Kitty.    She  said  she'd  seen  your  hand. 

Anna.    Oh,  I  didn't.     I  said  I  could  see  it. 

Lady  Kitty.  Well,  I  naturally  supposed  that  if  she 
could  see  it  she  did. 

PoRTEous.  Really,  Kitty,  you  have  the  most  extraor- 
dinary ideas. 

C.-C.  Not  at  all.  If  anyone  is  such  a  fool  as  to  show 
me  his  hand,  of  course  I  look  at  it. 

PoRTEOUs.  [Fuming.]  If  you  study  the  etiquette  of 
bridge,  you'll  discover  that  onlokers  are  expected  not  to 
interfere  with  the  game. 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  37 

C.-C.  My  dear  Hughie,  this  Is  a  matter  of  ethics,  not 
of  bridge. 

Anna.    Anyhow,  I  get  the  game.     And  rubber. 

Teddie.     I  claim  a  revoke. 

PoRTEOUs.     Who  revoked? 

Teddie.    You  did. 

PoRTEOUS.    Nonsense.     I've  never  revoked  in  my  Hfe. 

Teddie.  I'll  show  you.  [lie  turns  over  the  tricks  to 
show  the  faces  of  the  cards. \  You  threw  away  a  club  on 
the  third  heart  trick  and  you  had  another  heart. 

Porteous.     I  never  had  more  than  two  hearts. 

Teddie.  Oh,  yes,  you  had.  Look  here.  That's  the 
card  you  played  on  the  last  trick  but  one. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Delighted  to  catch  him  out.]  There's  no 
doubt  about  it,  Hughie.     You. revoked. 

Porteous.    I  tell  you  I  did  not  revoke.     I  never  revoke. 

C.-C.  You  did,  Hughie.  I  wondered  what  on  earth 
you  were  doing. 

Porteous.  I  don't  know  how  anyone  can  be  expected 
not  to  revoke  when  there's  this  confounded  chatter  going 
on  all  the  time. 

Teddie.    Well,  that's  another  hundred  to  us. 

Porteous.      [To    Champion-Cheney.]      I    wish    you 

wouldn't    breathe    down    my    neck.     I    never   can    play 

bridge  when  there's  somebody  breathing  down  my  neck. 

[The  -party  have  risen  fiom  the  bridge-table,  and  they 

scatter  about  the  room. 

Anna.  Well,  I'm  going  to  take  a  book  and  lie  down  in 
the  hammock  till  it's  time  to  dress. 

Teddie.  [Who  has  been  adding  up.]  I'll  put  it  down  in 
the  book,  shall  I? 

Porteous.  [Who  has  not  moved,  setting  out  the  cards  for  a 
patience.]     Yes,  yes,  put  it  down.     I  never  revoke. 

[Anna  goes  out. 

Lady  Kitty.  Would  you  like  to  come  for  a  little  stroll, 
Hughie? 

Porteous.     What  for? 


38  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Lady  Kitty.    Exercise. 

PoRTEOUS.     I  hate  exercise. 

C.-C.  [Looking  at  the  patience.]  The  seven  goes  on  the 
eight. 

[PoRTEOUs  takes  no  notice. 

Lady  Kitty.    The  seven  goes  on  the  eight,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.    1  don't  choose  to  put  the  seven  on  the  eight. 

C.-C.     That  knave  goes  on  the  queen. 

PoRTEOus.    I'm  not  bhnd,  thank  you. 

Lady  Kitty.    The  three  goes  on  the  four. 

C.-C.    All  these  go  over. 

PoRTEOus.  [Furiously.]  Am  I  playing  this  patience, 
or  are  you  playing  it? 

Lady  Kitty.     But  you're  missing  everything. 

PoRTEous.     That's  my  business. 

C.-C.    It's  no  good  losing  your  temper  over  it,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.     Go  away,  both  of  you.     You  irritate  me. 

Lady  Kitty.    We  were  only  trying  to  help  you,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.  I  don't  want  to  be  helped.  I  want  to  do 
it  by  myself. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  think  your  manners  are  perfectly 
deplorable,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.  It's  simply  maddening  when  you're  playing 
patience  and  people  won't  leave  you  alone. 

C.-C.     We  won't  say  another  word. 

PoRTEOus.  That  three  goes.  I  believe  it's  coming  out. 
If  I'd  been  such  a  fool  as  to  put  that  seven  up  I  shouldn't 
have  been  able  to  bring  these  down. 

[He  puts  down  several  cards  while  they  watch  him  silently. 

Lady  Kitty  and  C.-C.  [Together.]  The  four  goes  on 
the  five. 

PoRTEous.  [Throwing  down  the  cards  violently.]  Damn 
you!  why  don't  you  leave  me  alone?     It's  intolerable. 

C.-C.     It  was  coming  out,  my  dear  fellow. 

PoRTEOus.    I  know  it  was  coming  out.    Confound  you! 

Lady  Kitty.     How  petty  you  are,  Hughie! 

PoRTEOus.    Petty,  be  damned!    I've  told  you  over  and 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  39 

over  again  that  I  will  not  be  interfered  with  when  I'm 
playing  patience. 

Lady  Kitty.    Don't  talk  to  me  like  that,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.     I  shall  talk  to  you  as  I  please. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Beginning  to  cry.]  Oh,  you  brute!  You 
brute!    [She  flings  out  of  the  room.] 

PoRTEOUS.     Oh,  damn!  now  she's  going  to  cry. 

[He  shambles  out  into  the  garden.  Champion-Cheney, 
Elizabeth  and  Teddie  are  left  alone.  There  is  a 
moment's  pause.  Champion-Cheney  looks  from 
Teddie  to  Elizabeth,  with  an  ironical  smile. 

C.-C.  Upon  my  soul,  they  might  be  married.  They 
frip  so  much. 

Elizabeth.  [Frigidly.]  It's  been  nice  of  you  to  come 
here  so  often  since  they  arrived.  It's  helped  to  make 
things  easy. 

C.-C.  Irony?  It's  a  rhetorical  form  not  much  favoured 
in  this  blessed  plot,  this  earth,  this  realm,  this  England. 

Elizabeth.     What  exactly  are  you  getting  at.^ 

C.-C.  How  slangy  the  young  women  of  the  present 
day  are!  I  suppose  the  fact  that  Arnold  is  a  purist  leads 
you  to  the  contrary  extravagance. 

Elizabeth.    Anyhow  you  know  what  I  mean. 

C.-C.    [With  a  smile.]    I  have  a  dim,  groping  suspicion. 

Elizabeth.  You  promised  to  keep  away.  Why  did 
you  come  back  the  moment  they  arrived? 

C.-C.  Curiosity,  my  dear  child.  A  surely  pardonable 
curiosity. 

Elizabeth.  And  since  then  you've  been  here  all  the 
time.  You  don't  generally  favour  us  with  so  much  of 
your  company  when  you're  down  at  your  cottage. 

C.-C.    I've  been  excessively  amused. 

Elizabeth.  It  has  struck  me  that  whenever  they 
started  fripping  you  took  a  malicious  pleasure  in  goading 
them  on. 

C.-C.  I  don't  think  there's  much  love  lost  between 
them  now,  do  you? 


40  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

[Teddie  is  making  as  though  to  leave  the  room. 

Elizabeth.     Don't  go,  Teddie. 

C.-C.  No,  please  don't.  I'm  only  staying  a  minute. 
We  were  talking  about  Lady  Kitty  just  before  she  arrived. 
[To  Elizabeth.]  Do  you  remember?  The  pale,  frail  lady 
in  black  satin  and  old  lace. 

Elizabeth.  [With  a  chuckle.]  You  are  a  devil,  you 
know. 

C.-C.  Ah,  well,  he's  always  had  the  reputation  of  being 
a  humorist  and  a  gentleman. 

Elizabeth.  Did  you  expect  her  to  be  like  that,  poor 
dear.? 

C.-C.  My  dear  child,  I  hadn't  the  vaguest  idea.  You 
were  asking  me  the  other  day  w^hat  she  was  like  when  she 
ran  away.  I  didn't  tell  you  half.  She  was  so  gay  and  so 
natural.  Who  would  have  thought  that  animation  would 
turn  into  such  frivolity,  and  that  charming  impulsiveness 
lead  to  such  a  ridiculous  affectation? 

Elizabeth.  It  rather  sets  my  nerves  on  edge  to  hear 
the  way  you  talk  of  her. 

C.-C.  It's  the  truth  that  sets  your  nerves  on  edge, 
not  I. 

Elizabeth.  You  loved  her  once.  Have  you  no  feeling 
for  her  at  all  ? 

C.-C.    None.     Why  should  I  ? 

Elizabeth.     She's  the  mother  of  your  son. 

C.-C.  My  dear  child,  you  have  a  charming  nature,  as 
simple,  frank,  and  artless  as  hers  was.  Don't  let  pure 
humbug  obscure  your  common  sense. 

Elizabeth.  We  have  no  right  to  judge.  She's  only 
been  here  two  days.     We  know  nothing  about  her. 

C.-C.  My  dear,  her  soul  is  as  thickly  rouged  as  her 
face.  She  hasn't  an  emotion  that's  sincere.  She's  tinsel 
You  think  I'm  a  cruel,  cynical  old  man.  Why,  when  I 
think  of  what  she  w^as,  if  I  didn't  laugh  at  what  she  has 
become  I  should  cry. 

Elizabeth.     How  do  you  know  she  wouldn't  be  just 


ACT  n]  THE  CIRCLE  41 

the  same  now  if  she'd  remained  your  wife?  Do  you 
think  your  influence  would  have  had  such  a  salutary 
effect  on  her? 

C.-C.  [Good-humour edly .]  I  like  you  when  you're  bitter 
and  rather  insolent. 

Elizabeth.  D'you  like  me  enough  to  answer  my 
question  ? 

C.-C.  She  was  only  twenty-seven  when  she  went  away. 
She  might  have  become  anything.  She  might  have 
become  the  woman  you  expected  her  to  be.  There  are 
very  few  of  us  who  are  strong  enough  to  make  circum- 
stances serve  us.  We  are  the  creatures  of  our  environ- 
ment. She's  a  silly,  worthless  woman  because  she's  led  a 
silly,  worthless  life. 

Elizabeth.     [Disturbed.]     You're  horrible  to-day. 

C.-C.  I  don't  say  it's  I  who  could  have  prevented  her 
from  becoming  this  ridiculous  caricature  of  a  pretty 
woman  grown  old.  But  life  could.  Here  she  would  have 
had  the  friends  fit  to  her  station,  and  a  decent  activity, 
and  worthy  interests.  Ask  her  what  her  life  has  been  all 
these  years  among  divorced  women  and  kept  women  and 
the  men  who  consort  with  them.  There  is  no  more 
lamentable  pursuit  than  a  life  of  pleasure. 

Elizabeth.  At  all  events  she  loved  and  she  loved 
greatly.     I  have  only  pity  and  affection  for  her. 

C.-C.  And  if  she  loved  what  d'you  think  she  felt  when 
she  saw  that  she  had  ruined  Hughie?  Look  at  him.  He 
was  tight  last  night  after  dinner  and  tight  the  night 
before. 

Elizabeth.    I  know. 

C.-C.  And  she  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  How 
long  do  you  suppose  he's  been  getting  tight  every  night? 
Do  you  think  he  was  like  that  thirty  years  ago?  Can 
you  imagine  that  that  was  a  brilliant  young  man,  whom 
everyone  expected  to  be  Prime  Minister?  Look  at  him 
now.     A  grumpy  sodden  old  fellow  with  false  teeth. 

Elizabeth.    You  have  false  teeth,  too. 


42  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

C.-C.  Yes,  but  damn  It  all,  they  fit.  She's  ruined  him 
and  she  knows  she's  ruined  him. 

Elizabeth.  [Looking  at  him  suspiciously.]  Why  are 
you  saying  all  this  to  me? 

C.-C.    Am  I  hurting  your  feelings? 

Elizabeth.    I  think  I've  had  enough  for  the  present. 

C.-C.  I'll  go  and  have  a  look  at  the  gold-fish.  I  want 
to  see  Arnold  when  he  comes  in,  [Politely.]  I'm  afraid 
we've  been  boring  Mr.  Luton. 

Teddie.    Not  at  all. 

C.-C.    When  are  you  going  back  to  the  F.M.S.  ? 

Teddie.    In  about  a  month. 

C.-C.    I  see. 

[He  goes  out. 

Elizabeth.  I  wonder  what  he  has  at  the  back  of  his 
head. 

Teddie.    D'you  think  he  was  talking  at  you? 

Elizabeth.    He's  as  clever  as  a  bagful  of  monkeys. 
[There  is  a  moment's  pause.     Teddie  hesitates  a  little 
and  when  he  speaks  it  is  in  a  different  tone.     He  is 
grave  and  somewhat  nervous. 

Teddie.  It  seems  very  difficult  to  get  a  few  minutes 
alone  with  you.  I  wonder  if  you've  been  making  it 
difficult? 

Elizabeth.    I  wanted  to  think. 

Teddie.    I've  made  up  my  mind  to  go  away  to-morrow. 

Elizabeth.    Why? 

Teddie.    I  want  you  altogether  or  not  at  all. 

Elizabeth.    You're  so  arbitrary. 

Teddie,     You  said  you — you  said  you  cared  for  me. 

Elizabeth.    I  do. 

Teddie.     Do  you  mind  if  we  talk  it  over  now? 

Elizabeth.    No. 

Teddie.  [Frowning.]  It  makes  me  feel  rather  shy  and 
awkward.  I've  repeated  to  myself  over  and  over  again 
exactly  what  I  want  to  say  to  you,  and  now  all  I'd  pre- 
pared seems  rather  footling. 


ACT  n]  THE  CIRCLE  43 

Elizabeth.    I'm  so  afraid  I'm  going  to  cry. 
Teddie.     I  feel  it's  all  so  tremendously  serious  and  1 
think  we  ought  to  keep  emotion  out  of  it.     You're  rather 
emotional,  aren't  you? 

Elizabeth.  [Half  smiling  and  half  in  tears.]  So  are 
you  for  the  matter  of  that. 

Teddie,  That's  why  I  wanted  to  have  everything  I 
meant  to  say  to  you  cut  and  dried.  1  think  it  would 
be  awfully  unfair  if  I  made  love  to  you  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing,  and  you  were  carried  away.  I  wrote  it  all  down 
and  thought  I'd  send  it  you  as  a  letter. 
Elizabeth.    Why  didn't  you? 

Teddie.  I  got  the  wind  up.  A  letter  seems  so — so 
cold.     You  see,  I  love  you  so  awfully. 

Elizabeth.    For  goodness'  sake  don't  say  that. 
Teddie.    You  mustn't  cry.     Please  don't,  or  I  shall  go 
all  to  pieces. 

Elizabeth.  [Trying  to  smile.]  I'm  sorry.  It  doesn't 
mean  anything  really.  It's  only  tears  running  out  of  my 
eyes. 

Teddie.  Our  only  chance  is  to  be  awfully  matter-of- 
fact. 

[He  stops  for  a  moment.     He  fnds  it  quite  difficult  to 
control  himself.     He  clears  his  throat.     He  frowns 
with  annoyance  at  himself. 
Elizabeth.    What's  the  matter? 

Teddie.  I've  got  a  sort  of  lump  in  my  throat.  It  is 
idiotic.     I  think  I'll  have  a  cigarette. 

[She  watches  him  in  silence  while  he  lights  a  cigarette.- 
You  see,  I've  never  been  in  love  with  anyone  before,  not 
really.  It's  knocked  me  endways.  I  don't  know  how  I 
can  live  without  you  now.  .  .  .  Does  that  old  fool  know 
I'm  in  love  with  you? 
Elizabeth.    I  think  so. 

Teddie.  When  he  was  talking  about  Lady  Kitty 
smashing  up  Lord  Porteous'  career  I  thought  there  was 
something  at  the  back  of  it. 


44  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Elizabeth.  I  think  he  was  trying  to  persuade  me  not 
to  smash  up  yours. 

Teddie.  I'm  sure  that's  very  considerate  of  him,  but 
I  don't  happen  to  have  one  to  smash.  I  wish  I  had. 
It's  the  only  time  in  my  life  I've  wished  I  were  a  hell 
of  a  swell  so  that  I  could  chuck  it  all  and  show  you  how 
much  more  you  are  to  me  than  anything  else  in  the  world. 

Elizabeth.  [Affectionately.]  You'rq  a  dear  old  thing, 
Teddie. 

Teddie.  You  know,  I  don't  really  know  how  to  make 
love,  but  if  I  did  I  couldn't  do  it  now  because  I  just  want 
to  be  absolutely  practical. 

Elizabeth.  [Chaffing  him.]  I'm  glad  you  don't  know 
how  to  make  love.  It  would  be  almost  more  than  I 
could  bear. 

Teddie.  You  see,  I'm  not  at  all  romantic  and  that  sort 
of  thing.  I'm  just  a  common  or  garden  business  man. 
All  this  is  so  dreadfully  serious  and  I  think  we  ought  to 
be  sensible. 

Elizabeth.    [With  a  break  in  her  voice.]    You  owl! 

Teddie.  No,  Elizabeth,  don't  say  things  like  that  to 
me.  I  want  you  to  consider  all  the  pros  and  cons,  and 
my  heart's  thumping  against  my  chest,  and  you  know 
I  love  you,  I  love  you,  I  love  you. 

Elizabeth.    [In  a  sigh  of  passion.]    Oh,  my  precious! 

Teddie.  [Impatiently,  hut  with  himself,  rather  than  with 
Elizabeth.]  Don't  be  idiotic,  Elizabeth.  I'm  not  going 
to  tell  you  that  I  can't  live  without  you  and  a  lot  of 
muck  like  that.  You  know  that  you  mean  everything 
in  the  world  to  me.  [Almost  giving  it  up  as  a  had  job. 
Oh,  my  God! 

Elizabeth.  [Her  voice  faltering.]  D'you  think  there's 
anything  you  can  say  to  me  that  I  don't  know  already? 

Teddie.  [Desperately.]  But  I  haven't  said  a  single 
thing  I  wanted  to.  I'm  a  business  man  and  I  want  to 
put  it  all  in  a  business  way,  if  you  understand  what  I 
mean. 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  45 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling.]  I  don't  believe  you're  a  very 
good  business  man. 

Teddie.  [Sharply.]  You  don't  know  what  you're 
talking  about.  I'm  a  first-rate  business  man,  but  some- 
how this  is  different.  [Hopelessly.]  I  don't  know  why  it 
won't  go  right. 

Elizabeth.    What  are  we  going  to  do  about  it? 

Teddie.  You  see,  it's  not  just  because  you're  awfully 
pretty  that  I  love  you.  I'd  love  you  just  as  much  if 
you  were  old  and  ugly.  It's  you  I  love,  not  what  you 
look  like.  And  it's  not  only  love;  love  be  blowed! 
It's  that  I  like  you  so  tremendously.  I  think  you're 
such  a  ripping  good  sort.  I  just  want  to  be  with  you. 
I  feel  so  jolly  and  happy  just  to  think  you're  there.  I'm 
so  awfully  fond  of  you. 

Elizabeth.  [Laughing  through  her  tears.]  I  don't  know 
if  this  is  your  idea  of  introducing  a  business  proposition, 

Teddie.    Damn  you,  you  won't  let  me. 

Elizabeth.    You  said  "Damn  you." 

Teddie.    I  meant  it. 

Elizabeth.  Your  voice  sounded  as  if  you  meant  it, 
you  perfect  duck! 

Teddie.     Really,  Elizabeth,  you're  intolerable. 

Elizabeth.    I'm  doing  nothing. 

Teddie.  Yes,  you  are,  you're  putting  me  off  my  blow. 
What  I  want  to  say  is  perfectly  simple.  I'm  a  very 
ordinary  business  man. 

Elizabeth.    You've  said  that  before. 

Teddie.  [Jngrily.]  Shut  up.  I  haven't  got  a  bob 
besides  what  I  earn.  I've  got  no  position.  I'm  nothing. 
You're  rich  and  you're  a  big  pot  and  you've  got  every- 
thing that  anyone  can  want.  It's  awful  cheek  my  saying 
anything  to  you  at  all.  But  after  all  there's  only  one 
thing  that  really  matters  in  the  world,  and  that's  love. 
I  love  you.     Chuck  all  this,  Elizabeth,  and  come  to  me. 

Elizabeth.    Are  you  cross  with  me? 

Teddie.    Furious. 


46  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Elizabeth.    Darling! 

Teddie.  If  you  don't  want  me  tell  me  so  at  once  and 
let  me  get  out  quickly. 

Elizabeth.  Teddie,  nothing  in  the  world  matters  any- 
thing to  me  but  you.  I'll  go  wherever  you  take  me.  I 
love  you. 

Teddie.    [Jll  to  pieces.]    Oh,  my  God! 

Elizabeth.  Does  it  mean  as  much  to  you  as  that? 
Oh,  Teddie! 

Teddie.  [Trying  to  control  himself.]  Don't  be  a  fool, 
Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.  It's  you're  the  fool.  You're  making  me 
cry. 

Teddie.    You're  so  damned  emotional. 

Elizabeth.  Damned  emotional  yourself.  I'm  sure 
you're  a  rotten  business  man. 

Teddie.  I  don't  care  what  you  think.  You've  made 
me  so  awfully  happy.     I  say,  what  a  lark  life's  going  to  be! 

Elizabeth.    Teddie,  you  are  an  angel. 

Teddie.  Let's  get  out  quick.  It's  no  good  wasting 
time.     Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.    What? 

Teddie.    Nothing.     I  just  like  to  say  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.    You  fool! 

Teddie.    I  say,  can  you  shoot? 

Elizabeth.    No. 

Teddie.  I'll  teach  you.  You  don't  know  how  ripping 
it  is  to  start  out  from  your  camp  at  dawn  and  travel 
through  the  jungle.  And  you're  so  tired  at  night  and 
the  sky's  all  starry.  It's  a  fair  treat.  Of  course  I  didn't 
want  to  say  anything  about  all  that  till  you'd  decided. 
I'd  made  up  my  mind  to  be  absolutely  practical. 

Elizabeth.  [Chaffing  him.]  The  only  practical  thing 
you  said  was  that  love  is  the  only  thing  that  really 
matters. 

Teddie.  [Happily.]  Pull  the  other  leg  next  time,  will 
you?     I  should  have  to  have  one  longer  than  the  other. 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  47 

Elizabeth.  Isn't  it  fun  being  in  love  with  some  one 
who's  in  love  with  you? 

Teddie.  I  say,  I  think  I'd  better  clear  out  at  once, 
don't  you?  It  seems  rather  rotten  to  stay  on  in — in  this 
house. 

Elizabeth.    You  can't  go  to-night.     There's  no  train. 
Teddie.    I'll  go  to-morrow.     I'll  wait  in  London  till 
you're  ready  to  join  me. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  not  going  to  leave  a  note  on  the  pin- 
cushion like  Lady  Kitty,  you  know.  I'm  going  to  tell 
Arnold. 

Teddie.  Are  you?  Don't  you  think  there'll  be  an 
awful  bother? 

Elizabeth.     I  must  face  it.     I  should  hate  to  be  sly 
and  deceitful. 
Teddie.    Well,  then,  let's  face  it  together. 
Elizabeth.     No,  I'll  talk  to  Arnold  by  myself. 
Teddie.    You  won't  let  anyone  influence  you? 
Elizabeth.    No. 

[He  holds  out  his  hand  and  she  takes  it.     They  look 
into    one   another's  eyes  with  grave,   almost  solemn 
affection.    There  is  the  sound  outside  of  a  car  driving  up. 
Elizabeth.    There's  the  car.     Arnold's  come  back.     I 
must  go  and  bathe  my  ej-es.     I  don't  want  them  to  see 
I've  been  crying. 
Teddie.    All  right.     [As  she  is  going.]     Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth.  [Stopping.}    What? 
Teddie.     Bless  you. 
Elizabeth.    [Affectionately.]    Idiot! 

[She  goes  out  of  the  door  and  Teddie  through  the  French 
window  into  the  garden.     For  an  instant  the  room  is 
empty.     Arnold  comes  in.     He  sits  down  and  takes 
some  papers  out  of  his  despatch-case.     Lady  Kitty 
enters.     He  gets  up. 
Lady  Kitty.    I  saw  you  come  in.     Oh,  my  dear,  don't 
get  up.     There's  no  reason  why  you  should  be  so  dread- 
fully polite  to  me. 


48  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Arnold.    I've  just  rung  for  a  cup  of  tea. 

Lady  Kitty.  Perhaps  we  shall  have  the  chance  of  a 
little  talk.  We  don't  seem  to  have  had  five  minutes  by 
ourselves.     I  want  to  make  your  acquaintance,  you  know. 

Arnold.  I  should  like  you  to  know  that  it's  not  by  my 
wish  that  my  father  is  here. 

Lady  Kitty.    But  I'm  so  interested  to  see  him. 

Arnold.  I  was  afraid  that  you  and  Lord  Porteous 
must  find  it  embarrassing. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  no.  Hughie  was  his  greatest  friend. 
They  were  at  Eton  and  Oxford  together.  1  think  your 
father  has  improved  so  much  since  I  saw  him  last.  He 
wasn't  good-looking  as  a  young  man,  but  now  he's  quite 
handsome. 

[The  Footman  brings  in  a  tray  on  which  are  tea-things. 

Lady  Kitty.    Shall  I  pour  it  out  for  you? 

Arnold.    Thank  you  very  much. 

Lady  Kitty.    Do  you  take  sugar? 

Arnold.    No.     I  gave  it  up  during  the  war. 

Lady  Kitty.  So  wise  of  you.  It's  so  bad  for  the  figure. 
Besides  being  patriotic,  of  course.  Isn't  it  absurd  that 
I  should  ask  my  son  if  he  takes  sugar  or  not?  Life  is 
really  very  quaint.  Sad,  of  course,  but  oh,  so  quaint! 
Often  I  lie  in  bed  at  night  and  have  a  good  laugh  to  myself 
as  I  think  how  quaint  life  is. 

Arnold.    I'm  afraid  I'm  a  very  serious  person. 

Lady  Kitty.    How  old  are  you  now,  Arnold? 

Arnold.    Thirty-five. 

Lady  Kitty.  Are  you  really  ?  Of  course,  I  was  a  child 
when  I  married  your  father. 

Arnold.  Really.  He  always  told  me  you  were 
twenty-two. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  what  nonsense!  Why,  I  was  mar- 
ried out  of  the  nursery.  I  put  my  hair  up  for  the  first 
time  on  my  wedding-day. 

Arnold.    Where  is  Lord  Porteous? 

Lady  Kitty.    My  dear,  it  sounds  too  absurd  to  hear 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  49 

you  call  him  Lord  Porteous.     Why  don't  you  call  him — 
Uncle  Hughie? 

Arnold.    He  doesn't  happen  to  be  my  uncle. 

Lady  Kitty.  No,  but  he's  your  godfather.  You  know, 
I'm  sure  you'll  like  him  when  you  know  him  better. 
I'm  so  hoping  that  you  and  Elizabeth  will  come  and  stay 
with  us  in  Florence.  I  simply  adore  Elizabeth.  She's 
too  beautiful. 

Arnold.    Her  hair  is  very  pretty. 

Lady  Kitty.    It's  not  touched  up,  is  it? 

Arnold.    Oh,  no. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  just  wondered.  It's  rather  a  coinci- 
dence that  her  hair  should  be  the  same  colour  as  mine. 
I  suppose  it  shows  that  your  father  and  you  are  at- 
tracted by  just  the  same  thing.  So  interesting,  heredity, 
isn't  it? 

Arnold.    Very. 

Lady  Kitty.  Of  course,  since  I  joined  the  Catholic 
Church  I  don't  believe  in  it  any  more.  Darwin  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  Too  dreadful.  Wicked,  you  know. 
Besides,  it's  not  very  good  form,  is  it? 

[Champion-Cheney  comes  in  from  the  garden. 

C.-C.    Do  I  intrude? 

Lady  Kitty.  Come  in,  Clive.  Arnold  and  I  have  been 
having  such  a  wonderful  heart-to-heart  talk. 

C.-C.    Very  nice. 

Arnold.  Father,  I  stepped  in  for  a  moment  at  the 
Harveys'  on  my  way  back.  It's  simply  criminal  what 
they're  doing  with  that  house. 

C.-C.    What  are  they  doing? 

Arnold.  It's  an  almost  perfect  Georgian  house  and 
they've  got  a  lot  of  dreadful  Victorian  furniture.  I  gave 
them  my  ideas  on  the  subject,  but  it's  quite  hopeless. 
They  said  they  were  attached  to  their  furniture. 

C.-C,    Arnold  should  have  been  an  interior  decorator. 

Lady  Kitty.  He  has  wonderful  taste.  He  gets  that 
from  me. 


50  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Arnold.  I  suppose  I  have  a  certain  flair.  I  have  a 
passion  for  decorating  houses. 

Lady  Kitty.    You've  made  this  one  charming. 
C.-C.    D'you    remember,    we   just    had    chintzes    and 
comfortable  chairs  when  we  Uved  here,  Kitty. 
Lady  Kitty.    Perfectly  hideous,  wasn't  it? 
C.-C.    In  those  days  gentlemen  and  ladies  were  not 
expected  to  have  taste. 

Arnold.  You  know,  I've  been  looking  at  this  chair 
again.  Since  Lord  Porteous  said  the  legs  weren't  right 
I've  been  very  uneasy. 

Lady  Kitty.  He  only  said  that  because  he  was  in  a 
bad  temper. 

C.-C.    His  temper  seems  to  me  very  short  these  days, 
Kitty. 
Lady  Kitty.   Oh,  it  is. 

Arnold.    You  feel  he  knows  what  he's  talking  about. 
I   gave  seventy-five   pounds   for  that  chair.     I'm   very 
seldom  taken  in.     I  always  think  if  a  thing's  right  you 
feel  it. 
C.-C.     Well,  don't  let  it  disturb  your  night's  rest. 
Arnold.    But,  my  dear  father,  that's  just  what  it  does. 
I  had  a  most  horrible  dream  about  it  last  night. 
Lady  Kitty.    Here  is  Hughie. 

Arnold.  I'm  going  to  fetch  a  book  I  have  on  Old 
English  furniture.  There's  an  illustration  of  a  chair 
which  is  almost  identical  with  this  one. 

[Porteous  comes  in. 
Porteous.     Quite  a  family  gathering,  by  George! 
C.-C.    I  was  thinking  just  now  we'd  make  a  very  pleas- 
ing picture  of  a  typical  English  home. 

Arnold.  I'll  be  back  in  five  minutes.  There's  some- 
thing I  want  to  show  you.  Lord  Porteous. 

[He  goes  out. 
C.-C.    Would  you  like  to  play  piquet  with  me,  Hughie? 
Porteous.    Not  particularly. 
C.-C.    You  were  never  much  of  a  piquet  player,  were  you  ? 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  51 

PoRTEOus.  My  dear  Clive,  you  people  don't  know  what 
piquet  is  in  England. 

C.-C.    Let's  have  a  game  then.     You  may  make  money. 

PoRTEOus.    I  don't  want  to  play  with  you. 

Lady  Kitty.    I  don't  know  why  not,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.  Let  me  tell  you  that  I  don't  like  your 
manner. 

C.-C.  I'm  sorry  for  that.  I'm  afraid  I  can't  offer  to 
change  it  at  my  age. 

PoRTEOUS.  I  don't  know  what  you  want  to  be  hanging 
around  here  for. 

C.-C.    A  natural  attachment  to  my  home. 

PoRTEOUs.  If  you'd  had  any  tact  you'd  have  kept  out 
of  the  way  while  we  were  here. 

C.-C.  My  dear  Hughie,  I  don't  understand  your  atti- 
tude at  all.  If  I'm  willing  to  let  bygones  be  bygones  why 
should' you  object? 

PoRTEOUS.    Damn  it  all,  they're  not  bygones. 

C.-C.    After  all,  I  am  the  injured  party. 

PoRTEOUs.    How  the  devil  are  you  the  injured  party? 

C.-C.    Well,  you  did  run  away  with  my  wife,  didn't  you  ? 

Lady  Kitty.  Now,  don't  let's  go  into  ancient  history. 
I  can't  see  why  we  shouldn't  all  be  friends. 

Porteous.    I  beg  you  not  to  interfere,  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.    I'm  very  fond  of  Clive. 

Porteous.  You  never  cared  two  straws  for  Clive. 
You  only  say  that  to  irritate  me. 

Lady  Kitty.  Not  at  all.  I  don't  see  why  he  shouldn't 
come  and  stay  with  us. 

C.-C.  I'd  love  to.  I  think  Florence  in  spring-time  is 
delightful.     Have  you  central  heating? 

Porteous.  I  never  liked  you,  I  don't  like  you  now, 
and  I  never  shall  like  you. 

C.-C.  How  very  unfortunate!  because  I  liked  you,  I 
like  you  now,  and  I  shall  continue  to  like  you. 

Lady  Kitty.  There's  something  very  nice  about  you, 
Clive. 


52  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

PoRTEOUS.  If  you  think  that,  why  the  devil  did  you 
leave  him? 

Lady  Kitty.  Are  you  going  to  reproach  me  because  I 
loved  you?  How  utterly,  utterly,  utterly  detestable  you 
are! 

C.-C.     Now,  now,  don't  quarrel  with  one  another. 

Lady  Kitty.  It's  all  his  fault.  I'm  the  easiest  person 
in  the  world  to  live  with.  But  really  he'd  try  the  patience 
of  a  saint. 

C.-C.  Come,  come,  don't  get  upset,  Kitty.  When  two 
people  live  together  there  must  be  a  certain  amount  of 
give  and  take. 

PoRTEOUS.  I  don't  know  what  the  devil  you're  talking 
about. 

C.-C.  It  hasn't  escaped  my  observation  that  you  are 
a  little  inclined  to  frip.  Many  couples  are.  I  think  it's 
a  pity. 

PoRTEOUS.  Would  you  have  the  very  great  kindness 
to  mind  your  own  business? 

Lady  Kitty.  It  is  his  business.  He  naturally  wants 
me  to  be  happy. 

C.-C.    I   have   the   very   greatest   affection    for   Kitty. 

PoRTEOUs.  Then  why  the  devil  didn't  you  look  after 
her  properly? 

C.-C.  My  dear  Hughie,  you  were  my  greatest  friend. 
I  trusted  you.     It  may  have  been  rash. 

PoRTEOUS.    It  was  inexcusable. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  that, 
Hughie. 

PoRTEOUS.    Don't,  don't,  don't  try  and  bully  me,  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.    Oh,  I  know  what  you  mean. 

PoRTEOUs.    Then  why  the  devil  did  you  say  you  didn't? 

Lady  Kitty.  When  I  think  that  I  sacrificed  everything 
for  that  man!  And  for  thirty  years  I've  had  to  live  in  a 
filthy  marble  palace  with  no  sanitary  conveniences. 

C.-C.  D'you  mean  to  say  you  haven't  got  a  bath- 
room? 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  53 

Lady  Kitty.    I've  had  to  wash  in  a  tub. 

C.-C.    My  poor  Kitty,  how  you've  suffered! 

PoRTEOUS.  Really,  Kitty,  I'm  sick  of  hearing  of  the 
sacrifices  you  made.  I  suppose  you  thmk  I  sacrificed 
nothing.  I  should  have  been  Prime  Minister  by  now  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  you. 

Lady  Kitty.    Nonsense! 

PoRTEOUS.  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  Everyone 
said  I  should  be  Prime  Minister.  Shouldn't  I  have  been 
Prime  Minister,  Clive? 

C.-C.    It  was  certainly  the  general  expectation. 

PoRTEOUS.  I  was  the  most  promising  young  man  of 
my  day.  I  was  bound  to  get  a  seat  in  the  Cabinet  at  the 
next  election. 

Lady  Kitty.  They'd  have  found  you  out  just  as  I've 
found  you  out.  I'm  sick  of  hearing  that  I  ruined  your 
career.  You  never  had  a  career  to  ruin.  Prime  Minister! 
You  haven't  the  brain.     You  haven't  the  character. 

C.-C.  Cheek,  push,  and  a  gift  of  the  gab  will  serve 
very  well  instead,  you  know. 

Lady  Kitty.  Besides,  in  politics  it's  not  the  men  that 
matter.  It's  the  women  at  the  back  of  them.  I  could 
have  made  Clive  a  Cabinet  Minister  if  I'd  wanted  to. 

PoRTEOUS.    Clive? 

Lady  Kitty.  With  my  beauty,  my  charm,  my  force  of 
character,  my  wit,  I  could  have  done  anything. 

PoRTEOUS.  Clive  was  nothing  but  my  political  secre- 
tary. When  I  was  Prime  Minister  I  might  have  made 
him  Governor  of  some  Colony  or  other.  Western  Aus- 
tralia, say.     Out  of  pure  kindliness. 

Lady  Kitty.  [With  flashing  eyes.]  D'you  think  1  would 
have  buried  myself  in  Western  Australia?  With  my 
beauty?     My  charm? 

PoRTEOUS.    Or  Barbadoes,  perhaps. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Furiously.]  Barbadoes!  Barbadoes  can 
go  ta— Barbadoes. 

PoRTEOUS.    That's  all  you'd  have  got. 


54  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Lady  Kitty.     Nonsense!     I'd  have  India. 

PoRTEOus.    I  would  never  have  given  you  India. 

Lady  Kitty.    You  would  have  given  me  India. 

PoRTEOUS.    I  tell  you  I  wouldn't. 

Lady  Kitty.  The  King  would  have  given  me  India. 
The  nation  would  have  insisted  on  my  having  India.  I 
would  have  been  a  vice-reine  or  nothing. 

PoRTEOUS.  I  tell  you  that  as  long  as  the  interests  of 
the  British  Empire — Damn  it  all,  my  teeth  are  coming  out! 

[He  hurries  from  the  room. 

Lady  Kitty.  It's  too  much.  I  can't  bear  it  any  more. 
I've  put  up  with  him  for  thirty  years  and  now  I'm  at  the 
end  of  my  tether. 

C.-C.     Calm  yourself,  my  dear  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  won't  listen  to  a  word.  I've  quite 
made  up  my  mind.  It's  finished,  finished,  finished. 
[With  a  change  of  tone.]  I  was  so  touched  when  I  heard 
that  you  never  lived  in  this  house  again  after  I  left  it. 

C.-C.  The  cuckoos  have  always  been  very  plentiful. 
Their  note  has  a  personal  application  which,  I  must  say, 
I  have  found  extremely  offensive. 

Lady  Kitty.  When  I  saw  that  you  didn't  marry  again 
I  couldn't  help  thinking  that  you  still  loved  me. 

C.-C.  I  am  one  of  the  few  men  I  know  who  is  able  to 
profit  by  experience. 

Lady  Kitty.  In  the  eyes  of  the  Church  I  am  still  your 
wife.  The  Church  is  so  wise.  It  knows  that  in  the  end 
a  woman  always  comes  back  to  her  first  love.  Clive, 
I  am  willing  to  return  to  you. 

C.-C.  My  dear  Kitty,  I  couldn't  take  advantage  of 
your  momentary  vexation  with  Hughie  to  let  you  take  a 
step  which  I  know  you  would  bitterly  regret. 

Lady  Kitty.  You've  waited  for  me  a  long  time.  For 
Arnold's  sake. 

C.-C.  Do  you  think  we  really  need  bother  about 
Arnold?  In  the  last  thirty  years  he's  had  time  to  grow 
used  to  the  situation. 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  55 

Lady  Kitty.  [With  a  little  smile.]  I  think  I've  sown 
my  wild  oats,  Clive. 

C.-C.    I  haven't.     I  was  a  good  young  man,  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.    1  know. 

C.-C.  And  I'm  very  glad,  because  it  has  enabled  me 
to  be  a  wicked  old  one. 

Lady  Kitty.    I  beg  your  pardon. 

[Arnold  comes  in  with  a  large  book  in  his  hand. 

Arnold.  I  say,  I've  found  the  book  I  was  hunting  for. 
Oh!    isn't  Lord  Porteous  here? 

Lady  Kitty.  One  moment,  Arnold.  Your  father  and 
I  are  busy. 

Arnold.    I'm  so  sorry. 

[He  goes  out  into  the  garden. 

Lady  Kitty.    Explain  yourself,  Clive. 

C.-C.  When  you  ran  away  from  me,  Kitty,  I  was  sore 
and  angry  and  miserable.     But  above  all  I  felt  a  fool. 

Lady  Kitty.    Men  are  so  vain. 

C.-C.  But  I  was  a  student  of  history,  and  presently 
I  reflected  that  I  shared  my  misfortune  with  very  nearly 
all  the  greatest  men. 

Lady  Kitty.  I'm  a  great  reader  myself.  It  has  always 
struck  me  as  peculiar. 

C.-C.  The  explanation  is  very  simple.  Women  dis- 
like intelligence,  and  when  they  find  it  in  their  husbands 
they  revenge  themselves  on  them  in  the  only  way  they 
can,  by  making  them — well,  what  3'ou  made  me. 

Lady  Kitty.    It's  ingenious.     It  may  be  true. 

C.-C.  I  felt  I  had  done  my  duty  by  society  and  I 
determined  to  devote  the  rest  of  my  life  to  my  own  enter- 
tainment. The  House  of  Commons  had  always  bored 
me  excessively  and  the  scandal  of  our  divorce  gave  me  an 
opportunity  to  resign  my  seat.  I  have  been  relieved  to 
find  that  the  country  got  on  perfectly  well  without  me. 

Lady  Kitty.     But  has  love  never  entered  your  life? 

C.-C.  Tell  me  frankly,  Kitty,  don't  you  think  people 
make  a  lot  of  unnecessary  fuss  about  love? 


56  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Lady  Kitty.  It's  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the 
world. 

C.-C.  You're  incorrigible.  Do  you  really  think  it 
was  worth  sacrificing  so  much  for? 

Lady  Kitty.  My  dear  Clive,  I  don't  mind  telling  you 
that  if  I  had  my  time  over  again  I  should  be  unfaithful 
to  you,  but  I  should  not  leave  you. 

C.-C.  For  some  years  I  was  notoriously  the  prey  of  a 
secret  sorrow.  But  I  found  so  many  charming  creatures 
who  were  anxious  to  console  that  in  the  end  it  grew 
rather  fatiguing.  Out  of  regard  to  my  health  I  ceased 
to  frequent  the  drawing-rooms  of  Mayfair. 

Lady  Kitty.    And  since  then  ? 

C.-C.  Since  then  I  have  allowed  myself  the  luxury  of 
assisting  financially  a  succession  of  dear  little  things,  in  a 
somewhat  humble  sphere,  between  the  ages  of  twenty 
and  twenty-five. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  cannot  understand  the  infatuation  of 
men  for  young  girls.     I  think  they're  so  dull. 

C.-C.  It's  a  matter  of  taste.  I  love  old  wine,  old 
friends  and  old  books,  but  I  like  young  women.  On 
their  twenty-fifth  birthday  I  give  them  a  diamond  ring 
and  tell  them  they  must  no  longer  waste  their  youth  and 
beauty  on  an  old  fogey  like  me.  We  have  a  most  affect- 
ing scene,  my  technique  on  these  occasions  is  perfect, 
and  then  I  start  all  over  again. 

Lady  Kitty.    You're  a  wicked  old  man,  Clive. 

C.-C.  That's  what  I  told  you.  But,  by  George!  I'm 
a  happy  one. 

Lady  Kitty.    There's  only  one  course  open  to  me  now. 

C.-C.    What  is  that? 

Lady  Kitty.  [With  a  flashing  smile.]  To  go  and  dress 
for  dinner. 

C.-C.    Capital.     I  will  follow  your  example. 

[As  Lady  Kitty  goes  out  Elizabeth  comes  in. 

Elizabeth.    Where  is  Arnold? 

C.-C.    He's  on  the  terrace.     I'll  call  him. 


ACT  n]  THE  CIRCLE  57 

Elizabeth.    Don't  bother. 

C.-C.  I  was  just  strolling  along  to  my  cottage  to  put 
on  a  dinner  jacket.     [As  he  goes  out.]    Arnold. 

[Exit  C.-C. 

Arnold.  Hulloal  [He  comes  in.]  Oh,  Elizabeth,  I've 
found  an  illustration  here  of  a  chair  which  is  almost 
identical  with  mine.     It's  dated  1750.     Look! 

Elizabeth.    That's  very  interesting. 

Arnold.  I  want  to  show  it  to  Porteous.  [Moving  a 
chair  which  has  been  misplaced.]  You  know,  it  does  ex- 
asperate me  the  way  people  will  not  leave  things  alone. 
I  no  sooner  put  a  thing  in  its  place  than  somebody 
moves  it. 

Elizabeth.    It  must  be  maddening  for  you. 

Arnold.  It  is.  You  are  the  worst  offender.  I  can't 
think  why  you  don't  take  the  pride  that  I  do  in  the  house. 
After  all,  it's  one  of  the  show  places  in  the  county. 

Elizabeth.    I'm  afraid  you  find  me  very  unsatisfactory. 

Arnold.  [Good-humouredly.]  I  don't  know  about  that. 
But  my  two  subjects  are  politics  and  decoration.  I  should 
be  a  perfect  fool  if  I  didn't  see  that  you  don't  care  two 
straws  about  either. 

Elizabeth.  We  haven't  very  much  in  common,  Arnold, 
have  we?  ' 

Arnold.     I  don't  think  you  can  blame  me  for  that. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't.  I  blame  you  for  nothing.  I  have 
no  fault  to  find  with  you. 

Arnold.  [Surprised  at  her  significant  tone.]  Good 
gracious  me!    what's  the  meaning  of  all  this? 

Elizabeth.  Well,  I  don't  think  there's  any  object  in 
beating  about  the  bush.     I  want  you  to  let  me  go, 

Arnold.    Go  where? 

Elizabeth.    Away.     For  always. 

Arnold.    My  dear  child,  what  are  you  talking  about? 

Elizabeth.     I  want  to  be  free. 

Arnold.  [Amused  rather  than  disconcerted.]  Don't  be 
ridiculous,  darling.     I  daresay  you're  run  down  and  want 


58  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

a  change.  I'll  take  you  over  to  Paris  for  a  fortnight  if 
you  like. 

Elizabeth.  I  shouldn't  have  spoken  to  you  if  I  hadn't 
quite  made  up  my  mind.  We've  been  married  for  three 
years  and  I  don't  think  it's  been  a  great  success.  I'm 
frankly  bored  by  the  life  you  want  me  to  lead. 

Arnold.  Well,  if  you'll  allow  me  to  say  so,  the  fault 
is  yours.  We  lead  a  very  distinguished,  useful  life.  We 
know  a  lot  of  extremely  nice  people. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  quite  willing  to  allow  that  the  fault  is 
mine.  But  how  does  that  make  it  any  better?  I'm 
only  twenty-five.  If  I've  made  a  mistake  I  have  time  to 
correct  it. 

Arnold.  I  can't  bring  myself  to  take  you  very  seri- 
ously. 

Elizabeth.    You  see,  I  don't  love  you. 

Arnold.  Well,  I'm  awfully  sorry.  But  you  weren't 
obliged  to  marry  me.  You've  made  your  bed  and  I'm 
afraid  you  must  lie  on  it. 

Elizabeth.  That's  one  of  the  falsest  proverbs  in  the 
English  language.  Why  should  you  lie  on  the  bed  you've 
made  if  you  don't  want  to?     There's  always  the  floor. 

Arnold.    For  goodness'  sake  don't  be  funny,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.  I've  quite  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  you, 
Arnold. 

Arnold.  Come,  come,  Elizabeth,  you  must  be  sensible. 
You  haven't  any  reason  to  leave  me. 

Elizabeth.  Why  should  you  wish  to  keep  a  woman 
tied  to  you  who  wants  to  be  free? 

Arnold.    I  happen  to  be  in  love  with  you. 

Elizabeth.     You  might  have  said  that  before. 

Arnold.  I  thought  you'd  take  it  for  granted.  You 
can't  expect  a  man  to  go  on  making  love  to  his  wife  after 
three  years.  I'm  very  busy.  I'm  awfully  keen  on  politics 
and  I've  worked  like  a  dog  to  make  this  house  a  thing  of 
beauty.  After  all,  a  man  marries  to  have  a  home,  but 
also  because  he  doesn't  want  to  be  bothered  with  sex  and 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  59 

all  that  sort  of  thing.  I  fell  in  love  with  you  the  first 
time  I  saw  you  and  I've  been  in  love  ever  since. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  sorry,  but  if  you're  not  in  love  with  a 
man  his  love  doesn't  mean  very  much  to  you. 

Arnold.  It's  so  ungrateful.  I've  done  everything  in 
the  world  for  you. 

Elizabeth.  You've  been  very  kind  to  me.  But 
you've  asked  me  to  lead  a  life  I  don't  like  and  that  I'm 
not  suited  for.  I'm  awfully  sorry  to  cause  you  pain, 
but  now  you  must  let  me  go. 

Arnold.  Nonsense!  I'm  a  good  deal  older  than  you 
are  and  I  think  I  have  a  little  more  sense.  In  your  in- 
terests as  well  as  in  mine  I'm  not  going  to  do  anything 
of  the  sort. 

Elizabeth.  [fFith  a  smile.]  How  can  you  prevent  me? 
You  can't  keep  me  under  lock  and  key. 

Arnold.  Please  don't  talk  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  foolish 
child.  You're  my  wife  and  you're  going  to  remain  my 
wife. 

Elizabeth.  What  sort  of  a  life  do  you  think  we  should 
lead?  Do  you  think  there'd  be  any  more  happiness  for 
you  than  for  me? 

Arnold.    But  what  is  it  precisely  that  you  suggest? 

Elizabeth.    Well,  I  want  you  to  let  me  divorce  you. 

Arnold.  [Astounded.]  Me?  Thank  you  very  much. 
Are  you  under  the  impression  I'm  going  to  sacrifice  my 
career  for  a  whim  of  yours? 

Elizabeth.    How  will  it  do  that? 

Arnold.  My  seat's  wobbly  enough  as  it  is.  Do  you 
think  I'd  be  able  to  hold  it  if  I  were  in  a  divorce  case? 
Even  if  it  were  a  put-up  job,  as  most  divorces  are  nowa- 
days, it  would  damn  me. 

Elizabeth.    It's  rather  hard  on  a  woman  to  be  divorced. 

Arnold.  [With  sudden  suspicion.]  What  do  you  mean 
by  that?     Are  you  in  love  with  some  one? 

Elizabeth.    Yes. 

Arnold.    Who  ? 


60  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

Elizabeth.    Teddie  Luton. 

[He  is  astonished  for  a  moment,  then  bursts  into  a  laugh. 

Arnold.  My  poor  child,  how  can  you  be  so  ridiculous? 
Why,  he  hasn't  a  bob.  He's  a  perfectly  commonplace 
young  man.     It's  so  absurd  I  can't  even  be  angry  with  you. 

Elizabeth.  I've  fallen  desperately  in  love  with  him, 
Arnold. 

Arnold.    Well,  you'd  better  fall  desperately  out. 

Elizabeth.    He  wants  to  marry  me. 

Arnold.    I  daresay  he  does.     He  can  go  to  hell. 

Elizabeth.    It's  no  good  talking  like  that. 

Arnold.    Is  he  your  lover? 

Elizabeth.    No,  certainly  not. 

Arnold.  It  shows  that  he's  a  mean  skunk  to  take 
advantage  of  my  hospitality  to  make  love  to  you. 

Elizabeth.    He's  never  even  kissed  me. 

Arnold.  I'd  try  telling  that  to  the  horse  marines  if  1 
were  you. 

Elizabeth.  It's  because  I  wanted  to  do  nothing  shabby 
that  I  told  you  straight  out  how  things  were. 

Arnold.    How  long  have  you  been  thinking  of  this? 

Elizabeth.  I've  been  in  love  with  Teddie  ever  since 
I  knew  him. 

Arnold.    And  you  never  thought  of  me  at  all,  I  suppose. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  yes,  I  did.  I  was  miserable.  But  I 
can't  help  myself.     I  wish  I  loved  you,  but  I  don't. 

Arnold.  I  recommend  you  to  think  very  carefully 
before  you  do  anything  foolish. 

Elizabeth.    I  have  thought  very  carefully. 

Arnold.  By  God!  I  don't  know  why  I  don't  give 
you  a  sound  hiding.  I'm  not  sure  if  that  wouldn't  be 
the  best  thing  to  bring  you  to  your  senses. 

Elizabeth.     Oh,  Arnold,  don't  take  it  like  that. 

Arnold.  How  do  you  expect  me  to  take  it?  You  come 
to  me  quite  calmly  and  say:  "I've  had  enough  of  you. 
We've  been  married  three  years  and  I  think  I'd  like  to 
marry  somebody  else  now.     Shall  I  break  up  your  home? 


ACT  n]  THE  CIRCLE  61 

What  a  bore  for  you!  Do  you  mind  my  divorcing  you? 
It'll  smash  up  your  career,  will  it?  What  a  pity!"  Oh, 
no,  my  girl,  I  may  be  a  fool,  but  I'm  not  a  damned  fool. 

Elizabeth.  Teddie  is  leaving  here  by  the  first  train 
to-morrow.  I  warn  you  that  I  mean  to  join  him  as  soon 
as  he  can  make  the  necessary  arrangements. 

Arnold.    Where  is  he? 

Elizabeth.    I  don't  know.     I  suppose  he's  in  his  room. 
[Arnold  goes  to  the  door  and  calls. 

Arnold.    George! 

[For  a  moment  he  walks  up  and  dozvn  the  room  im- 
patiently. Elizabeth  watches  him.  The  Footman 
comes  in. 

Footman.    Yes,  sir. 

Arnold.    Tell  Mr.  Luton  to  come  here  at  once. 

Elizabeth.  Ask  Mr.  Luton  if  he  wouldn't  mind  coming 
here  for  a  moment. 

Footman.    Very  good,  madam. 

[Exit  Footman. 

Elizabeth.    What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him  ? 

Arnold.    That's  my  business. 

Elizabeth.    I  wouldn't  make  a  scene  if  I  were  you. 

Arnold.    I'm  not  going  to  make  a  scene. 

[They  wait  in  silence. 
Why  did  you  insist  on  my  mother  coming  here? 

Elizabeth.  It  seemed  to  me  rather  absurd  to  take  up 
the  attitude  that  I  should  be  contaminated  by  her  when  . . . 

Arnold.  [Interrupting.]  When  you  were  proposing  to 
do  exactly  the  same  thing.  Well,  now  you've  seen  her 
what  do  you  think  of  her?  Do  you  think  it's  been  a 
success?  Is  that  the  sort  of  woman  a  man  would  like  his 
mother  to  be? 

Elizabeth.  I've  been  ashamed.  I've  been  so  sorry. 
It  all  seemed  dreadful  and  horrible.  This  morning  I 
happened  to  notice  a  rose  in  the  garden.  It  was  all  over- 
blown and  bedraggled.  It  looked  like  a  painted  old 
woman.     And  I  remembered  that  I'd  looked  at  it  a  day 


62  THE  CIRCLE  [act  ii 

or  two  ago.  It  was  lovely  then,  fresh  and  blooming  and 
fragrant.  It  may  be  hideous  now,  but  that  doesn't 
take  away  from  the  beauty  it  had  once.     That  was  real. 

Arnold.  Poetry,  by  God!  As  if  this  weie  the  moment 
for  poetry! 

[Teddie  comes  in.    He  has  changed  into  a  dinner  jacket. 

Teddie.    [To  Elizabeth.]    Did  you  want  me? 

Arnold.    /  sent  for  you. 

[Teddie  looks  from  Arnold  to  Elizabeth.     He  sees 
that  something  has  happened. 
When    would    it    be    convenient    for   you    to    leave   this 
house.? 

Teddie.  I  was  proposing  to  go  to-morrow  morning. 
But  I  can  very  well  go  at  once  if  you  like. 

Arnold.    I  do  like. 

Teddie.  Very  well.  Is  there  anything  else  you  wish 
to  say  to  me? 

Arnold.  Do  you  think  it  was  a  very  honourable  thing 
to  come  down  here  and  make  love  to  my  wife? 

Teddie.  No,  I  don't.  I  haven't  been  very  happy  about 
it.     That's  why  I  wanted  to  go  away. 

Arnold.    Upon  my  word  you're  cool. 

Teddie.  I'm  afraid  it's  no  good  saying  I'm  sorry  and 
that  sort  of  thing.     You  know  what  the  situation  is. 

Arnold.    Is  it  true  that  you  want  to  marry  Elizabeth? 

Teddie.  Yes.  I  should  like  to  marry  her  as  soon  as 
ever  I  can. 

Arnold.  Haveyou  thought  of  me  at  all?  Has  it  struck 
you  that  you're  destroying  my  home  and  breaking  up  my 
happiness? 

Teddie.  I  don't  see  how  there  could  be  much  happiness 
for  you  if  Elizabeth  doesn't  care  for  you. 

Arnold.  Let  me  tell  you  that  I  refuse  to  have  my  home 
broken  up  by  a  twopenny-halfpenny  adventurer  who  takes 
advantage  of  a  foolish  woman.  I  refuse  to  allow  myself 
to  be  divorced.  I  can't  prevent  my  wife  from  going  off 
with  you  if  she's  determined  to  make  a  damned  fool  of 


ACT  ii]  THE  CIRCLE  63 

herself,  but  this  I  tell  you:    nothing  will  induce  me  to 
divorce  her. 

Elizabeth.    Arnold,  that  would  be  monstrous. 

Teddie.    We  could  force  you. 

Arnold.    How? 

Teddie.  If  we  went  away  together  openly  you'd  have 
to  bring  an  action. 

Arnold.  Twenty-four  hours  after  you  leave  this  house 
I  shall  go  down  to  Brighton  with  a  chorus-girl.  And 
neither  you  nor  I  will  be  able  to  get  a  divorce.  We've 
had  enough  divorces  in  our  family.  And  now  get  out, 
get  out,  get  out! 

[Teddie  looks  uncertainly  at  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth,  [ff-^ith  a  little  smile.]  Don't  bother  about 
me.     I  shall  be  all  right. 

Arnold.    Get  out!     Get  out! 


end  of  the  second  act 


THE  THIRD  ACT 


THE  THIRD  ACT 

The  Scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  preceding  Acts. 

It  is  the  night  of  the  same  day  as  that  on  which  takes  place 

the  action  of  the  second  Act. 
Champion-Cheney  and  Arnold,  both  in  dinner  jackets,  are 
discovered.     Champion-Cheney  is  seated.     Arnold 
walks  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room. 

C.-C.  I  think,  if  you'll  follow  my  advice  to  the  letter, 
you'll  probably  work  the  trick. 

Arnold.  I  don't  like  it,  you  know.  It's  against  all  my 
principles. 

C.-C.  My  dear  Arnold,  we  all  hope  that  you  have 
before  you  a  distinguished  political  career.  You  can't 
learn  too  soon  that  the  most  useful  thing  about  a  principle 
is  that  it  can  always  be  sacrificed  to  expediency. 

Arnold.  But  supposing  it  doesn't  come  off.''  Women 
are  incalculable. 

C.-C.  Nonsense!  Men  are  romantic.  A  woman  will 
always  sacrifice  herself  if  you  give  her  the  opportunity. 
It  is  her  favourite  form  of  self-indulgence. 

Arnold.  I  never  know  whether  you're  a  humorist  or 
a  cynic,  father. 

C.-C.  I'm  neither,  my  dear  boy;  I'm  merely  a  very 
truthful  man.  But  people  are  so  unused  to  the  truth 
that  they're  apt  to  mistake  it  for  a  joke  or  a  sneer. 

Arnold.  [Irritably.]  It  seems  so  unfair  that  this  should 
happen  to  me. 

C.-C.  Keep  your  head,  my  boy,  and  do  what  I  tell 
you. 

[Lady  Kitty  and  Elizabeth  come  in.    Lady  Kitty 
is  in  a  gorgeous  evening  gown. 
67 


68  THE  CIRCLE  [act  iii 

Elizabeth.    Where  is  Lord  Porteous? 
C.-C.    He's  on  the  terrace.    He's  smoking  a  cigar.    [Go- 
ing  to  window.]    Hughie! 

[Porteous  comes  in. 
Porteous.    [With  a  grunt.]    Yes?    Where's  Mrs.  Shen- 
stone  ? 

Elizabeth.     Oh,  she  had  a  headache.     She's  gone  to 
bed. 

[When  Porteous  comes  in  Lady  Kitty  with  a  very 
haughty  air  purses  her  lips  and  takes  up  an  illus- 
trated paper.    Porteous  gives  her  an  irritated  look, 
takes  another  illustrated  paper  and  sits  himself  down 
at  the  other  end  of  ihe  room.     They  are  not  on  speaking 
terms. 
C.-C.    Arnold  and  I  have  just  been  down  to  my  cottage. 
Elizabeth.    I  wondered  where  you'd  gone. 
C.-C.    I  came  across  an  old  photograph  album  this  after- 
noon.   I  meant  to  bring  it  along  before  dinner,  but  I  for- 
got, so  we  went  and  fetched  it. 

Elizabeth.     Oh,  do  let  me  see  it!     I  love  old  photo- 
graphs. 

[He  gives  her  the  album,  and  she,  sitting  down,  puts  it 

071  her  knees  and  begins  to  turn  over  the  pages.    He 

stands  over  her.     Lady  Kitty  and  Porteous  take 

surreptitious  glances  at  one  another. 

C.-C.    I  thought  it  might  amuse  you  to  see  what  pretty 

women  looked  like  five-and-thirty  years  ago.    That  was 

the  day  of  beautiful  women. 

Elizabeth.     Do  you  think  they  were  more  beautiful 
then  than  they  are  now? 

C.-C.     Oh,  much.     Now  you  see  lots  of  pretty  little 
things,  but  very  few  beautiful  women. 
Elizabeth.    Aren't  their  clothes  funny? 
C.-C.    [Pointing  to  a  photograph.]    That's  Mrs.  Langtry. 
Elizabeth.    She  has  a  lovely  nose. 
C.-C.     She  was  the   most  wonderful   thing  you  ever 
saw.     Dowagers  used  to  jump  on  chairs  in  order  to  get 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  69 

a  good  look  at  her  when  she  came  into  a  drawing-room. 
I  was  riding  with  her  once,  and  we  had  to  have  the  gates 
of  the  Hvery  stable  closed  when  she  was  getting  on  her 
horse  because  the  crowd  was  so  great. 

Elizabeth.    And  who's  that? 

C.-C.    Lady  Lonsdale.    That's  Lady  Dudley. 

Elizabeth.    This  is  an  actress,  isn't  it? 

C.-C.  It  is,  indeed.  Ellen  Terry.  By  George!  how  I 
loved  that  woman! 

Elizabeth.    [With  a  senile.]    Dear  Ellen  Terry! 

C.-C.  That's  Bwabs.  I  never  saw  a  smarter  man  in 
my  life.  And  Oliver  Montagu.  Henry  Manners  with 
his  eye-glass. 

Elizabeth.    Nice-looking,  isn't  he?    And  this? 

C.-C.  That's  Mary  Anderson.  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  her  in  "A  Winter's  Tale."  Her  beauty  just  took 
your  breath  away.  And  look!  There's  Lady  Randolph. 
Bernal  Osborne — the  wittiest  man  I  ever  knew. 

Elizabeth.  I  think  it's  too  sweet.  I  love  their  absurd 
bustles  and  those  tight  sleeves. 

C.-C.  What  figures  they  had!  In  those  days  a  woman 
wasn't  supposed  to  be  as  thin  as  a  rail  and  as  flat  as  a 
pancake. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  but  aren't  they  laced  in?  How  could 
they  bear  it? 

C.-C.  They  didn't  play  golf  then,  and  nonsense  like 
that,  you  know.  They  hunted,  in  a  tall  hat  and  a  long 
black  habit,  and  they  were  very  gracious  and  charitable 
to  the  poor  in  the  village. 

Elizabeth.    Did  the  poor  like  it? 

C.-C.  They  had  a  very  thin  time  if  they  didn't.  When 
they  were  in  London  they  drove  in  the  Park  every  after- 
noon, and  they  went  to  ten-course  dinners,  where  they 
never  met  anybody  they  didn't  know.  And  they  had  their 
box  at  the  opera  when  Patti  was  singing  or  Madame  Albani. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  what  a  lovely  little  thing!  Who  on 
earth  is  that? 


70  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

C.-C.    That? 

Elizabeth.  She  looks  so  fragile,  like  a  piece  of  ex- 
quisite china,  with  all  those  furs  on  and  her  face  up  against 
her  muflF,  and  the  snow  falling. 

C.-C.  Yes,  there  was  quite  a  rage  at  that  time  for  being 
taken  in  an  artificial  snowstorm. 

Elizabeth.  What  a  sweet  smile,  so  roguish  and  frank, 
and  debonair!  Oh,  I  wish  I  looked  like  that!  Do  tell  me 
who  it  is! 

C.-C.    Don't  you  know? 
Elizabeth.    No. 
C.-C.    Why— it's  Kitty. 

Elizabeth.  Lady  Kitty!  [To  Lady  Kitty.]  Oh,  my 
dear,  do  look !  It's  too  ravishing.  [She  takes  the  album  over 
to  her  impulsively.]  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  looked 
like  -that?  Everybody  must  have  been  in  love  with 
you. 

[Lady  Kitty  takes  the  album  and  looks  at  it.     Then 
she  lets  it  slip  from  her  hands  and  covers  her  face  with 
her  hands.     She  is  crying, 
[hi  consternation.]     My  dear,  what's  the  matter?     Oh, 
what  have  I  done?     I'm  so  sorry. 

Lady  Kitty.  Don't,  don't  talk  to  me.  Leave  me  alone. 
It's  stupid  of  me. 

[Elizabeth  looks  at  her  for  a  moment  perplexed,  then, 
turning  round,  slips  her  arm  in  Champion-Cheney's 
and  leads  him  out  on  to  the  terrace. 
Elizabeth.    [As  they  are  going,  in  a  whisper.]    Did  you 
do  that  on  purpose? 

[PoRTEOus  gets  up  and  goes  over  to  Lady  Kitty.    He 
puts  his  hand  on  her  shoulder.    They  remain  thus  for 
a  little  while. 
PoRTEOUS.     I'm  afraid  I  was  very  rude  to  you  before 
dinner,  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.    [Taking  his  hand  which  is  on  her  shoulder.] 
It  doesn't  matter.    I'm  sure  I  was  very  exasperating. 
Porteous.    I  didn't  mean  what  I  said,  you  know. 


ACT  m]  THE  CIRCLE  71 

Lady  Kitty.    Neither  did  L 

PoRTEOUS.  Of  course  I  know  that  I'd  never  have  been 
Prime  Minister. 

Lady  Kitty.  How  can  you  talk  such  nonsense,  Hughie? 
No  one  would  have  had  a  chance  if  you'd  remained  in 
politics. 

PoRTEOUS.    I  haven't  the  character. 

Lady  Kitty.  You  have  more  character  than  anyone 
I've  ever  met. 

PoRTEOUS.  Besides,  I  don't  know  that  I  much  wanted 
to  be  Prime  Minister. 

'    Lady  Kitty.    Oh,  but  I  should  have  been  so  proud  of 
you.    Of  course  you'd  have  been  Prime  Minister. 

PoRTEOUS.  I'd  have  given  you  India,  you  know.  I 
think  it  would  have  been  a  very  popular  appointment. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  don't  care  twopence  about  India.  I'd 
have  been  quite  content  with  Western  Australia. 

PoRTEOUS.  My  dear,  you  don't  think  I'd  have  let  you 
bury  yourself  in  Western  Australia? 

Lady  Kitty.    Or  Barbadoes. 

PoRTEOUS.  Never.  It  sounds  like  a  cure  for  flat  feet. 
I'd  have  kept  you  in  London. 

[He  picks  up  the  album  and  is  about  to  look  at  the  photo- 
graph of  Lady  Kitty.    She  puts  her  hand  over  it. 

Lady  Kitty.    No,  don't  look. 

[He  takes  her  hand  away. 

PoRTEOus.    Don't  be  so  silly. 

Lady  Kitty.    Isn't  it  hateful  to  grow  old  ? 

PoRTEOUS.    You  know,  you  haven't  changed  much. 

Lady  Kitty,  [Enchanted.]  Oh,  Hughie,  how  can  you 
talk  such  nonsense? 

Porteous.  Of  course  you're  a  little  more  mature,  but 
that's  all.  A  woman's  all  the  better  for  being  rather 
mature. 

Lady  Kitty.     Do  you  really  think  that? 

Porteous.    Upon  my  soul  I  do. 

Lady  Kitty.    You're  not  saying  it  just  to  please  me? 


72  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

PORTEOUS.     No,  no. 

Lady  Kitty.    Let  me  look  at  the  photograph  again. 
[She  takes  the  album  and  looks  at  the  photograph  com- 
placently. 
The  fact  is,  if  your  bones  are  good,  age  doesn't  really 
matter.     You'll  always  be  beautiful. 

PoRTEOUS.  {With  a  little  smile,  almost  as  if  he  were  talk- 
ing to  a  child.]    It  was  silly  of  you  to  cry. 

Lady  Kitty.    It  hasn't  made  my  eyelashes  run,  has  it? 

PoRTEOUs.    Not  a  bit. 

Lady  Kitty.  It's  very  good  stuff  I  use  now.  They 
don't  stick  together  either. 

PoRTEOUS.  Look  here,  Kitty,  how  much  longer  do  you 
want  to  stay  here.'' 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  I'm  quite  ready  to  go  whenever  you 
like. 

Porteous.  Clive  gets  on  my  nerves.  I  don't  like  the 
way  he  keeps  hanging  about  you. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Surprised,  rather  amused,  and  delighted.] 
Hughie,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you're  jealous  of  poor 
CHve? 

Porteous.  Of  course  I'm  not  jealous  of  him,  but  he 
does  look  at  you  in  a  way  that  I  can't  help  thinking  rather 
objectionable. 

Lady  Kitty.  Hughie,  you  may  throw  me  downstairs 
like  Amy  Robsart;  you  may  drag  me  about  the  floor  by 
the  hair  of  my  head;  I  don't  care,  you're  jealous.  I  shall 
never  grow  old. 

Porteous.    Damn  it  all,  the  man  was  your  husband. 

Lady  Kitty.  My  dear  Hughie,  he  never  had  your  style. 
Why,  the  moment  you  come  into  a  room  everyone  looks 
and  says:   "Who  the  devil  is  that.?" 

Porteous.  What?  You  think  that,  do  you?  Well,  I 
daresay  there's  something  in  what  you  say.  These  damned 
Radicals  can  say  what  they  like,  but,  by  God,  Kitty! 
when  a  man's  a  gentleman — well,  damn  it  all,  you  know 
what  I  mean. 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  73 

Lady  Kitty,  I  think  Clive  has  degenerated  dreadfully 
since  we  left  him. 

PoRTEOUS.  What  do  you  say  to  making  a  bee-line  for 
Italy  and  going  to  San  Michele? 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  Hughie!  It's  years  since  we  were 
there. 

PoRTEOUS.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  see  it  again — ^just 
once  more? 

Lady  Kitty.  Do  you  remember  the  first  time  we  went? 
It  was  the  most  heavenly  place  I'd  ever  seen.  We'd  only 
left  England  a  month,  and  I  said  I'd  like  to  spend  all  my 
life  there. 

PoRTEOUS.  Of  course  I  remember.  And  in  a  fortnight 
it  was  yours,  lock,  stock  and  barrel. 

Lady  Kitty.    We  were  very  happy  there,  Hughie. 

PoRTEOus.    Let's  go  back  once  more. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  daren't.  It  must  be  all  peopled  with 
the  ghosts  of  our  past.  One  should  never  go  again  to  a 
place  where  one  has  been  happy.  It  would  break  my 
heart. 

PoRTEOUS.  Do  you  remember  how  we  used  to  sit  on 
the  terrace  of  the  old  castle  and  look  at  the  Adriatic?  We 
might  have  been  the  only  people  in  the  world,  you  and  I, 
Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Tragically.]  And  we  thought  our  love 
would  last  for  ever. 

[Enter  Champion-Cheney. 

PoRTEOUS.    Is  there  any  chance  of  bridge  this  evening? 

C.-C.    I  don't  think  we  can  make  up  a  four. 

PoRTEOUS.  What  a  nuisance  that  boy  went  away  like 
that!     He  wasn't  a  bad  player. 

C.-C.    Teddie  Luton? 

Lady  Kitty.  I  think  it  was  very  funny  his  going  with- 
out saying  good-bye  to  anyone. 

C.-C.  The  young  men  of  the  present  day  are  very 
casual. 

Porteous.    I  thought  there  was  no  train  in  the  evening. 


74  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

C.-C.    There  isn't.    The  last  train  leaves  at  5.45. 

PoRTEOUs.    How  did  he  go  then  ? 

C.-C.    He  went. 

PoRTEOUs.    Damned  selfish  I  call  it. 

Lady  Kitty.    [Intrigued.]    Why  did  he  go,  Clive? 
[Champion-Cheney  looks  at  her  for  a   moment  re- 
flectively. 

C.-C.  I  have  something  very  grave  to  say  to  you. 
Elizabeth  wants  to  leave  Arnold. 

Lady  Kitty.    Clive!    What  on  earth  for? 

C.-C.  She's  in  love  with  Teddie  Luton.  That's  why  he 
went.  The  men  of  my  family  are  really  very  unfortu- 
nate. 

PoRTEOUS.    Does  she  want  to  run  away  with  him  ? 

Lady  Kitty.  [With  consternation.]  My  dear,  what's  to 
be  done? 

C.-C.    I  think  you  can  do  a  great  deal. 

Lady  Kitty.    I?   What? 

C.-C.    Tell  her,  tell  her  what  it  means. 

[He  looks  at  her  fixedly.     She  stares  at  him. 

Lady  Kitty.    Oh,  no,  no! 

C.-C.  She's  a  child.  Not  for  Arnold's  sake.  For  her 
sake.     You  must. 

Lady  Kitty.    You  don't  know  what  you're  asking. 

C.-C.    Yes,  I  do. 

Lady  Kitty.    Hughie,  what  shall  I  do? 

PoRTEOUs.  Do  what  you  like.  I  shall  never  blame  you 
for  anything. 

[The  Footman  comes  in  with  a  letter  on  a  salver.    He 
hesitates  on  seeing  that  Elizabeth  is  not  in  the  room. 

C.-C.    What  is  it? 

Footman.  I  was  looking  for  Mrs.  Champion-Cheney, 
sir. 

C.-C.    She's  not  here.    Is  that  a  letter? 

Footman.  Yes,  sir.  It^s  just  been  sent  up  from  the 
"Champion  Arms." 

C.-C.    Leave  it.    I'll  give  it  to  Mrs.  Cheney. 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  75 

Footman.    Very  good,  sir. 

[He  brings  the  tray  to  Clive,  zoho  takes  the  letter.     The 
Footman  goes  out. 
PoRTEOUS.    Is  the  "Champion  Arms"  the  local  pub? 
C.-C.     [Looking  at  the  letter.]     It's  by  way  of  being  a 
hotel,  but  I  never  heard  of  anyone  staying  there. 

Lady  Kitty.  If  there  was  no  train  I  suppose  he  had  to 
go  there. 

C.-C.  Great  minds.  I  wonder  what  he  has  to  write 
about!  [He  goes  to  the  door  leading  on  to  the  garden.] 
Elizabeth ! 

Elizabeth.    [Outside.]    Yes. 
C.-C.    Here's  a  note  for  you. 

[There  is  silence.     They  wait  for  Elizabeth  to  come. 
She  enters. 
Elizabeth.    It's  lovely  in  the  garden  to-night. 
C.-C.    They've  just  sent  this  up  from  the  "Champion 
Arms." 

Elizabeth.    Thank  you. 

[Without  embarrassment  she   opens   the   letter.      They 
watch  her  while  she  reads  it.     It  covers  three  pages. 
She  puts  it  away  in  her  bag. 
Lady  Kitty.     Hughie,  I  wish  you'd  fetch  me  a  cloak. 
I'd  like  to  take  a  little  stroll  in  the  garden,  but  after  thirty 
years  in  Italy  I  find  these  English  summers  rather  chilly. 
[Without  a  word  Porteous  goes  out.     Elizabeth  is 
lost  in  thought. 
I  want  to  talk  to  Elizabeth,  Clive. 
C.-C.    I'll  leave  you. 

[He  goes  out. 
Lady  Kitty.    What  does  he  say? 
Elizabeth.    Who? 
Lady  Kitty.    Mr.  Luton. 

Elizabeth.  [Gives  a  little  start.  Then  she  looks  at  Lady 
Kitty.]     They've  told  you? 

Lady  Kitty.  Yes.  And  now  they  have  I  think  I  knew 
it  all  along. 


76  THE  CIRCLE  [act  in 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  expect  you  to  have  much  sympathy 
for  me.    Arnold  is  your  son. 

Lady  Kitty.    So  pitifully  little. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  not  suited  for  this  sort  of  existence. 
Arnold  wants  me  to  take  what  he  calls  my  place  in  Society. 
Oh,  I  get  so  bored  with  those  parties  in  London.  All  those 
middle-aged  painted  women,  in  beautiful  clothes,  lollop- 
ing round  ball-rooms  with  rather  old  young  men.  And 
the  endless  luncheons  where  they  gossip  about  so-and-so's 
love  affairs. 

Lady  Kitty.  Are  you  very  much  in  love  with  Mr. 
Luton  ? 

Elizabeth.    I  love  him  with  all  my  heart. 

Lady  Kitty.    And  he? 

Elizabeth.  He's  never  cared  for  anyone  but  me.  He 
never  will. 

Lady  Kitty.    Will  Arnold  let  you  divorce  him? 

Elizabeth.  No,  he  won't  hear  of  it.  He  refuses  even 
to  divorce  me. 

Lady  Kitty.    Why? 

Elizabeth.  He  thinks  a  scandal  will  revive  all  the  old 
gossip. 

Lady  Kitty.    Oh,  my  poor  child ! 

Elizabeth.  It  can't  be  helped.  I'm  quite  willing  to 
accept  the  consequences. 

Lady  Kitty.  You  don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  a 
man  tied  to  you  only  by  his  honour.  When  married 
people  don't  get  on  they  can  separate,  but  if  they're  not 
married  it's  impossible.    It's  a  tie  that  only  death  can  sever. 

Elizabeth.  If  Teddie  stopped  caring  for  me  I  shouldn't 
want  him  to  stay  with  me  for  five  minutes. 

Lady  Kitty.  One  says  that  when  one's  sure  of  a  man's 
love,  but  when  one  isn't  any  more — oh,  it's  so  different. 
In  those  circumstances  one's  got  to  keep  a  man's  love. 
It's  the  only  thing  one  has. 

Elizabeth.  I'm  a  human  being.  I  can  stand 'on  my 
own  feet. 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  77 

Lady  Kitty.    Have  you  any  money  of  your  own  ? 

Elizabeth.    None. 

Lady  Kitty.  Then  how  can  you  stand  on  your  own 
feet?  You  think  I'm  a  silly,  frivolous  woman,  but 
I've  learned  something  in  a  bitter  school.  They  can 
make  what  laws  they  like,  they  can  give  us  the  suffrage, 
but  when  you  come  down  to  bedrock  it's  the  man  who 
pays  the  piper  who  calls  the  tune.  Woman  will  only  be 
the  equal  of  man  when  she  earns  her  living  in  the  same 
way  that  he  does. 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling.]  It  sounds  rather  funny  to  hear 
you  talk  like  that. 

Lady  Kitty.  A  cook  who  marries  a  butler  can  snap 
her  fingers  in  his  face  because  she  can  earn  just  as  much 
as  he  can.  But  a  woman  in  your  position  and  a  woman  in 
mine  will  always  be  dependent  on  the  men  who  keep  them. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  want  luxury.  You  don't  know  how 
sick  I  am  of  all  this  beautiful  furniture.  These  over- 
decorated  houses  are  like  a  prison  in  which  I  can't  breathe. 
When  I  drive  about  in  a  Callot  frock  and  a  Rolls-Royce  1 
envy  the  shop-girl  in  a  coat  and  skirt  whom  I  see  jumping 
on  the  tailboard  of  a  bus. 

Lady  Kitty.  You  mean  that  if  need  be  you  could  earn 
your  own  living? 

Elizabeth.    Yes. 

Lady  Kitty.  What  could  you  be?  A  nurse  or  a  typist. 
It's  nonsense.  Luxury  saps  a  woman's  nerve.  And  when 
she's  known  it  once  it  becomes  a  necessity. 

Elizabeth.    That  depends  on  the  woman. 

Lady  Kitty.  When  we're  young  we  think  we're  dif- 
ferent from  everyone  else,  but  when  we  grow  a  little  older 
we  discover  we're  all  very  much  of  a  muchness. 

Elizabeth,  You're  very  kind  to  take  so  much  trouble 
about  me. 

Lady  Kitty.  It  breaks  my  heart  to  think  that  you're 
going  to  make  the  same  pitiful  mistake  that  1  made. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  don't  say  it  was  that,  don't,  don't. 


78  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

Lady  Kitty.  Look  at  me,  Elizabeth,  and  look  at 
Hughie.  Do  you  think  it's  been  a  success?  If  I  had  my 
time  over  again  do  you  think  I'd  do  it  again?  Do  you 
think  he  would? 

Elizabeth.  You  see,  you  don't  know  how  much  I  love 
Teddie. 

Lady  Kitty.  And  do  you  think  I  didn't  love  Hughie? 
Do  you  think  he  didn't  love  me? 

Elizabeth.    I'm  sure  he  did. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  of  course  in  the  beginning  it  was 
heavenly.  We  felt  so  brave  and  adventurous  and  we  were 
so  much  in  love.  The  first  two  years  were  wonderful. 
People  cut  me,  you  know,  but  I  didn't  mind.  I  thought 
love  was  everything.  It  is  a  little  uncomfortable  when 
you  come  upon  an  old  friend  and  go  towards  her  eagerly, 
so  glad  to  see  her,  and  are  met  with  an  icy  stare. 

Elizabeth,  Do  you  think  friends  like  that  are  worth 
having? 

Lady  Kitty.  Perhaps  they're  not  very  sure  of  them- 
selves. Perhaps  they're  honestly  shocked.  It's  a  test  one 
had  better  not  put  one's  friends  to  if  one  can  help  it.  It's 
rather  bitter  to  find  how  few  one  has. 

Elizabeth.    But  one  has  some. 

Lady  Kitty.  Yes,  they  ask  you  to  come  and  see  them 
when  they're  quite  certain  no  one  will  be  there  who  might 
object  to  meeting  you.  Or  else  they  say  to  you:  "My 
dear,  you  know  I'm  devoted  to  you,  and  I  wouldn't  mind 
at  all,  but  my  girl's  growing  up — I'm  sure  you  understand; 
you  won't  think  it  unkind  of  me  if  I  don't  ask  you  to  the 
house?" 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling.]  That  doesn't  seem  to  me  very 
serious. 

Lady  Kitty.  At  first  I  thought  it  rather  a  relief,  be- 
cause it  threw  Hughie  and  me  together  more.  But  you 
know,  men  are  very  funny.  Even  when  they  are  in  love 
they're  not  in  love  all  day  long.  They  want  change  and 
recreation. 


ACT  m]  THE  CIRCLE  79 

Elizabeth.  I'm  not  inclined  to  blame  them  for  that, 
poor  dears. 

Lady  Kitty.  Then  we  settled  in  Florence,  And  be- 
cause we  couldn't  get  the  society  we'd  been  used  to  we 
became  used  to  the  society  we  could  get.  Loose  women 
and  vicious  men.  Snobs  who  liked  to  patronise  people 
with  a  handle  to  their  names.  Vague  Italian  Princes  who 
were  glad  to  borrow  a  few  francs  from  Hughie  and  seedy 
countesses  who  liked  to  drive  with  me  in  the  Cascine. 
And  then  Hughie  began  to  hanker  after  his  old  life.  He 
wanted  to  go  big  game  shooting,  but  I  dared  not  let  him 
go.    I  was  afraid  he'd  never  come  back. 

Elizabeth.     But  you  knew  he  loved  you. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  my  dear,  what  a  blessed  institution 
marriage  is — for  women,  and  what  fools  they  are  to 
meddle  with  itl  The  Church  is  so  wise  to  take  its  stand 
on  the  indi — indi — 

Elizabeth.    Solu — 

Lady  Kitty.  Bility  of  marriage.  Believe  me,  it's  no 
joke  when  you  have  to  rely  only  on  yourself  to  keep  a  man. 
I  could  never  afford  to  grow  old.  My  dear,  I'll  tell  you  a 
secret  that  I've  never  told  a  living  soul. 

Elizabeth.    What  is  that? 

Lady  Kitty.    My  hair  is  not  naturally  this  colour. 

Elizabeth.    Really. 

Lady  Kitty.  I  touch  it  up.  You  would  never  have 
guessed,  would  you? 

Elizabeth.    Never. 

Lady  Kitty.  Nobody  does.  My  dear,  it's  white, 
prematurely  of  course,  but  white.  I  always  think  it's  a 
symbol  of  my  life.  Are  you  interested  in  symbolism  ?  I 
think  it's  too  wonderful. 

Elizabeth.    I  don't  think  I  know  very  much  about  it. 

Lady  Kitty.  However  tired  I've  been  I've  had  to  be 
brilliant  and  gay.  I've  never  let  Hughie  see  the  aching 
heart  behind  my  smiling  eyes. 

Elizabeth.    [Amused  and  touched.]    You  poor  dear. 


80  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

Lady  Kitty.  And  when  I  saw  he  was  attracted  by  some 
one  else  the  fear  and  the  jealousy  that  seized  me!  You 
see,  I  didn't  dare  make  a  scene  as  I  should  have  done  if 
I'd  been  married — I  had  to  pretend  not  to  notice. 

Elizabeth.  [Taken  aback.]  But  do  you  mean  to  say 
he  fell  in  love  with  anyone  else? 

Lady  Kitty.    Of  course  he  did  eventually. 

Elizabeth.  [Hardly  knowing  what  to  say.]  You  must 
have  been  very  unhappy. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  I  was,  dreadfully.  Night  after  night 
I  sobbed  my  heart  out  when  Hughie  told  me  he  was  going 
to  play  cards  at  the  club  and  I  knew  he  was  with  that 
odious  woman.  Of  course,  it  wasn't  as  if  there  weren't 
plenty  of  men  who  were  only  too  anxious  to  console  me. 
Men  have  always  been  attracted  by  me,  you  know. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  of  course,  I  can  quite  understand  it. 

Lady  Kitty.  But  I  had  my  self-respect  to  think  of. 
I  felt  that  whatever  Hughie  did  I  would  do  nothing  that 
I  should  regret. 

Elizabeth.    You  must  be  very  glad  now. 

Lady  Kitty,  Oh,  yes.  Notwithstanding  all  my  tempta- 
tions I've  been  absolutely  faithful  to  Hughie  in  spirit. 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  think  I  quite  understand  what  you 
mean. 

Lady  Kitty.  Well,  there  was  a  poor  Italian  boy,  young 
Count  Castel  Giovanni,  who  was  so  desperately  in  love 
with  me  that  his  mother  begged  me  not  to  be  too  cruel. 
She  was  afraid  he'd  go  into  a  consumption.  What  could 
I  do?  And  then,  oh,  years  later,  there  was  Antonio 
Melita.  He  said  he'd  shoot  himself  unless  I — well,  you 
understand  I  couldn't  let  the  poor  boy  shoot  himself. 

Elizabeth.  D'you  think  he  really  would  have  shot 
himself? 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  one  never  knows,  you  know.  Those 
Italians  are  so  passionate.  He  was  really  rather  a  lamb. 
He  had  such  beautiful  eyes. 

[Elizabeth  looks  at  her  for  a  long  time  and  a  cer- 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  81 

tain  horror  seizes  her  of  this  dissolute^  painted  old 
woman. 

Elizabeth.  [Hoarsely.]  Oh,  but  I  think  that's — dread- 
ful. 

Lady  Kitty.  Are  you  shocked?  One  sacrifices  one's 
life  for  love  and  then  one  finds  that  love  doesn't  last. 
The  tragedy  of  love  isn't  death  or  separation.  One  gets 
over  them.     The  tragedy  of  love  is  indifference. 

[Arnold  comes  in. 

Arnold.    Can  I  have  a  little  talk  with  you,  Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth.    Of  course. 

Arnold.    Shall  we  go  for  a  stroll  in  the  garden? 

Elizabeth.    If  you  like. 

Lady  Kitty.     No,  stay  here.     I'm  going  out  anyway. 

[Exit  Lady  Kitty. 

Arnold.  I  want  you  to  listen  to  me  for  a  few  minutes, 
Elizabeth.  I  was  so  taken  aback  by  what  you  told  me 
just  now  that  I  lost  my  head.  I  was  rather  absurd  and 
I  beg  your  pardon.     I  said  things  I  regret. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  don't  blame  yourself.  I'm  sorry  that 
I  should  have  given  you  occasion  to  say  them. 

Arnold.  I  want  to  ask  you  if  you've  quite  made  up 
your  mind  to  go. 

Elizabeth.    Quite. 

Arnold.  Just  now  I  seem  to  have  said  all  that  I  didn't 
want  to  say  and  nothing  that  I  did.  I'm  stupid  and 
tongue-tied.     I  never  told  you  how  deeply  I  loved  you. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  Arnold! 

Arnold.  Please  let  me  speak  now.  It's  so  very  dif- 
ficult. If  I  seemed  absorbed  in  politics  and  the  house, 
and  so  on,  to  the  exclusion  of  my  interest  in  you,  I'm 
dreadfully  sorry.  I  suppose  it  was  absurd  of  me  to  think 
you  would  take  my  great  love  for  granted. 

Elizabeth.     But,  Arnold,  I'm  not  reproaching  you. 

Arnold.  I'm  reproaching  myself.  I've  been  tactless 
and  neglectful.  But  I  do  ask  you  to  believe  that  it  hasn't 
been  because  I  didn't  love  you.     Can  you  forgive  me? 


82  THE  CIRCLE  [act  iii 

Elizabeth.  I  don't  think  that  there's  anything  to 
forgive. 

Arnold.  It  wasn't  till  to-day  when  you  talked  of  leav- 
ing me  that  I  realised  how  desperately  in  love  with  you  I 
was. 

Elizabeth.    After  three  years? 

Arnold.  I'm  so  proud  of  you.  I  admire  you  so  much. 
When  I  see  you  at  a  party,  so  fresh  and  lovely,  and  every- 
body wondering  at  you,  I  have  a  sort  of  little  thrill  because 
you're  mine,  and  afterwards  I  shall  take  you  home. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  Arnold,  you're  exaggerating. 

Arnold.  I  can't  imagine  this  house  without  you.  Life 
seems  on  a  sudden  all  empty  and  meaningless.  Oh, 
Elizabeth,  don't  you  love  me  at  all? 

Elizabeth.    It's  much  better  to  be  honest.     No. 

Arnold.    Doesn't  my  love  mean  anything  to  you? 

Elizabeth.  I'm  very  grateful  to  you.  I'm  sorry  to 
cause  you  pain.  What  would  be  the  good  of  my  staying 
with  you  when  I  should  be  wretched  all  the  time? 

Arnold.  Do  you  love  that  man  as  much  as  all  that? 
Does  my  unhappiness  mean  nothing  to  you? 

Elizabeth.  Of  course  it  does.  It  breaks  my  heart. 
You  see,  I  never  knew  I  meant  so  much  to  you.  I'm  so 
touched.  And  I'm  so  sorry,  Arnold,  really  sorry.  But  I 
can't  help  myself. 

Arnold.    Poor  child,  it's  cruel  of  me  to  torture  you. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  Arnold,  believe  me,  I  have  tried  to 
make  the  best  of  it.  I've  tried  to  love  you,  but  I  can't. 
After  all,  one  either  loves  or  one  doesn't.  Trying  is  no 
help.  And  now  I'm  at  the  end  of  my  tether.  I  can't 
help  the  consequences — I  must  do  what  my  whole  self 
yearns  for. 

Arnold.  My  poor  child,  I'm  so  afraid  you'll  be  un- 
happy.    I'm  so  afraid  you'll  regret. 

Elizabeth.  You  must  leave  me  to  my  fate.  I  hope 
you'll  forget  me  and  all  the  unhappiness  I've  caused  you. 

Arnold.     [There  is  a  pause.    Arnold  walks  up  and 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  83 

down  the  room  reflectively.  lie  stops  and  faces  her.]  If  you 
love  this  man  and  want  to  go  to  him  I'll  do  nothing  to 
prevent  you.     My  only  wish  is  to  do  what  is  best  for  you. 

Elizabeth.  Arnold,  that's  awfully  kind  of  you.  If  I'm 
treating  you  badly  at  least  I  want  you  to  know  that  I'm 
grateful  for  all  your  kindness  to  me. 

Arnold.  But  there's  one  favour  I  should  like  you  to 
do  me.     Will  you? 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  Arnold,  of  course  I'll  do  anything  I 
can. 

Arnold.  Teddie  hasn't  very  much  money.  You've 
been  used  to  a  certain  amount  of  luxury,  and  I  can't  bear 
to  think  that  you  should  do  without  anything  you've  had. 
It  would  kill  me  to  think  that  you  were  suffering  any 
hardship  or  privation. 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  but  Teddie  can  earn  enough  for  our 
needs.     After  all,  we  don't  want  much  money. 

Arnold.  I'm  afraid  my  mother's  life  hasn't  been  very 
easy,  but  it's  obvious  that  the  only  thing  that's  made  it 
possible  is  that  Porteous  was  rich.  I  want  you  to  let  me 
make  you  an  allowance  of  two  thousand  a  year. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  no,  I  couldn't  think  of  it.     It's  absurd. 

Arnold.  I  beg  you  to  accept  it.  You  don't  know  what 
a  difference  it  will  make. 

Elizabeth.  It's  awfully  kind  of  you,  Arnold.  It 
humiliates  me  to  speak  about  it.  Nothing  would  induce 
me  to  take  a  penny  from  you. 

Arnold.  Well,  you  can't  prevent  me  from  opening  an 
account  at  my  bank  in  your  name.  The  money  shall  be 
paid  in  every  quarter  whether  you  touch  it  or  not,  and  if 
you  happen  to  want  it,  it  will  be  there  waiting  for  you. 

Elizabeth.  You  overwhelm  me,  Arnold.  There's  only 
one  thing  I  want  you  to  do  for  me.  I  should  be  very 
grateful  if  you  would  divorce  me  as  soon  as  you  possibly 
can. 

Arnold.  No,  I  won't  do  that.  But  I'll  give  you  cause 
to  divorce  me. 


84  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

Elizabeth.    You! 

Arnold.  Yes.  But  of  course  you'll  have  to  be  very 
careful  for  a  bit.  I'll  put  it  through  as  quickly  as  possible, 
but  I'm  afraid  you  can't  hope  to  be  free  for  over  six  months. 

Elizabeth.  But,  Arnold,  your  seat  and  your  political 
career! 

Arnold.  Oh,  well,  my  father  gave  up  his  seat  under 
similar  circumstances.  He's  got  along  very  comfortably 
without  politics. 

Elizabeth.    But  they're  your  whole  life. 

Arnold.  After  all  one  can't  have  it  both  ways.  You 
can't  serve  God  and  Mammon.  If  you  want  to  do  the 
decent  thing  you  have  to  be  prepared  to  suffer  for  it. 

Elizabeth.    But  I  don't  want  you  to  suffer  for  it. 

Arnold.  At  first  I  rather  hesitated  at  the  scandal. 
But  I  daresay  that  was  only  weakness  on  my  part.  Under 
the  circumstances  I  should  have  liked  to  keep  out  of  the 
Divorce  Court  if  I  could. 

Elizabeth.  Arnold,  you're  making  me  absolutely 
miserable. 

Arnold.  What  you  said  before  dinner  was  quite  right. 
It's  nothing  for  a  man,  but  it  makes  so  much  difference  to 
a  woman.    Naturally  I  must  think  of  you  first. 

Elizabeth.  That's  absurd.  It's  out  of  the  question. 
Whatever  there's  to  pay  I  must  pay  it. 

Arnold.    It's  not  very  much  I'm  asking  you,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.    I'm  taking  everything  from  you. 

Arnold.  It's  the  only  condition  I  make.  My  mind  is 
absolutely  made  up.  I  will  never  divorce  you,  but  I  will 
enable  you  to  divorce  me. 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  Arnold,  it's  cruel  to  be  so  generous. 

Arnold.  It's  not  generous  at  all.  It's  the  only  way  I 
have  of  showing  you  how  deep  and  passionate  and  sincere 
my  love  is  for  you. 

[There  is  a  silence.  He  holds  out  his  hand. 
Good-night.  I  have  a  great  deal  of  work  to  do  before  I 
go  to  bed. 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  85 

Elizabeth.    Good-night. 

Arnold.    Do  you  mind  if  I  kiss  you? 

Elizabeth.    [With  agony-]    Oh,  Arnold! 

[He  gravely  kisses  her  on  the  forehead  and  then  goes  out. 
Elizabeth  stands  lost  in  thought.  She  is  shattered. 
Lady  Kitty  and  Porteous  come  in.  Lady  Kitty 
wears  a  cloak. 

Lady  Kitty.    You're  alone,  Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth.  That  note  you  asked  me  about,  Lady  Kitty, 
from  Teddie  .  .  . 

Lady  Kitty.    Yes? 

Elizabeth.  He  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  me  before 
he  went  away.  He's  waiting  for  me  in  the  summer  house 
by  the  tennis  court.  Would  Lord  Porteous  mind  going 
down  and  asking  him  to  come  here? 

Porteous.    Certainly.    Certainly. 

Elizabeth.  Forgive  me  for  troubling  you.  But  it's 
very  important. 

Porteous.    No  trouble  at  all. 

[lie  goes  out. 

Lady  Kitty.    Hughie  and  I  will  leave  you  alone. 

Elizabeth.  But  I  don't  want  to  be  left  alone.  I  want 
you  to  stay. 

Lady  Kitty.    What  are  you  going  to  say  to  him  ? 

Elizabeth.  [Desperately.]  Please  don't  ask  me  ques- 
tions.    I'm  so  frightfully  unhappy. 

Lady  Kitty.    My  poor  child! 

Elizabeth.  Oh,  isn't  life  rotten?  Why  can't  one  be 
happy  without  making  other  people  unhappy? 

Lady  Kitty.  I  wish  I  knew  how  to  help  you.  I'm 
simply  devoted  to  you.  [She  hunts  about  in  her  mind  for 
something  to  do  or  say.]    Would  you  like  my  lip-stick? 

Elizabeth.  [Smiling  through  her  tears.]  Thanks.  I 
never  use  one. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  but  just  try.  It's  such  a  comfort 
when  you're  in  trouble. 

[Enter  Porteous  and  Teddie. 


86  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

PoRTEOUS.  I  brought  him.  He  said  he'd  be  damned  if 
he'd  come. 

Lady  Kitty.  When  a  lady  sent  for  him  ?  Are  these  the 
manners  of  the  young  men  of  to-day? 

Teddie.  When  you've  been  solemnly  kicked  out  of  a 
house  once  I  think  it  seems  rather  pushing  to  come  back 
again  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 

Elizabeth.    Teddie,  I  want  you  to  be  serious. 

Teddie.  Darling,  I  had  such  a  rotten  dinner  at  that 
pub.  If  you  ask  me  to  be  serious  on  the  top  of  that  I 
shall  cry. 

Elizabeth.  Don't  be  idiotic,  Teddie.  [Her  voice  falter- 
ing.]   I'm  so  utterly  wretched. 

[He  looks  at  her  for  a  moment  gravely. 

Teddie.    What  is  it? 

Elizabeth.    I  can't  come  away  with  you,  Teddie. 

Teddie.    Why  not? 

Elizabeth.  [Looking  away  in  embarrassment.]  I  don't 
love  you  enough. 

Teddie.    Fiddle! 

Elizabeth.  [With  a  flash  of  anger.]  Don't  say  "Fiddle" 
to  me. 

Teddie.    I  shall  say  exactly  what  I  like  to  you. 

Elizabeth.    I  won't  be  bullied. 

Teddie.  Now  look  here,  Elizabeth,  you  know  perfectly 
well  that  I'm  in  love  with  you,  and  I  know  perfectly  well 
that  you're  in  love  with  me.  So  what  are  you  talking  non- 
sense for? 

Elizabeth.  [Her  voice  breaking.]  I  can't  say  it  if  you're 
cross  with  me. 

Teddie.  [Smiling  very  tenderly.]  I'm  not  cross  with 
you,  silly. 

Elizabeth.  It's  harder  still  when  you're  being  rather 
an  owl. 

Teddie.  [With  a  chuckle.]  Am  1  mistaken  in  thinking 
you're  not  very  easy  to  please?      j^ 

Elizabeth.    Oh,  it's  monstrous.    I  was  all  wrought  up 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  87 

and  ready  to  do  anything,  and  now  you've  thoroughly  put 
me  out.  I  feel  like  a  great  big  fat  balloon  that  some  one 
has  put  a  long  pin  into.  {With  a  sudden  look  at  him.]  Have 
you  done  it  on  purpose? 

Teddie.  Upon  my  soul  I  don't  know  what  you're  talk- 
ing about. 

Elizabeth.  I  wonder  if  you're  really  much  cleverer  than 
I  think  you  are. 

Teddie.  [Taking  her  hands  and  making  her  sit  down.] 
Now  tell  me  exactly  what  you  want  to  say.  By  the 
way,  do  you  want  Lady  Kitty  and  Lord  Porteous  to  be 
here  ? 

Elizabeth.    Yes. 

Lady  Kitty.    Elizabeth  asked  us  to  stay. 

Teddie.  Oh,  I  don't  mind,  bless  you.  I  only  thought 
you  might  feel  rather  in  the  way. 

Lady  Kitty.  [Frigidly.]  A  gentlewoman  never  feels  in 
the  way,  Mr.  Luton. 

Teddie.  Won't  you  call  me  Teddie  ?  Everybody  does, 
you  know. 

[Lady  Kitty  tries  to  give  him  a  withering  look,  but  she 
finds  it  very  difficult  to  prevent  herself  from  smiling. 
Teddie  strokes  Elizabeth's  hands.  She  draws  them 
away. 

Elizabeth.  No,  don't  do  that.  Teddie,  it  wasn't  true 
when  I  said  I  didn't  love  you.  Of  course  I  love  you.  But 
Arnold  loves  me,  too.    I  didn't  know  how  much. 

Teddie.    What  has  he  been  saying  to  you? 

Elizabeth.  He's  been  very  good  to  me,  and  so  kind. 
I  didn't  know  he  could  be  so  kind.  He  offered  to  let  me 
divorce  him. 

Teddie.    That's  very  decent  of  him. 

Elizabeth.  But  don't  you  see,  it  ties  my  hands.  How 
can  I  accept  such  a  sacrifice  ?  I  should  never  forgive  myself 
if  I  profited  by  his  generosity. 

Teddie.  If  another  man  and  I  were  devilish  hungry 
and  there  was  only  one  mutton  chop  between  us,  and  he 


88  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

said,  "You  eat  it,"  I  wouldn't  waste  a  lot  of  time  arguing. 
I'd  wolf  it  before  he  changed  his  mind. 

Elizabeth.  Don't  talk  like  that.  It  maddens  me.  I'm 
trying  to  do  the  right  thing. 

Teddie.  You're  not  in  love  with  Arnold;  you're  in  love 
with  me.  It's  idiotic  to  sacrifice  your  life  for  a  slushy 
sentiment. 

Elizabeth.    After  all,  I  did  marry  him. 

Teddie.  Well,  you  made  a  mistake.  A  marriage  with- 
out love  is  no  marriage  at  all. 

Elizabeth.  /  made  the  mistake.  Why  should  he  suffer 
for  it.''  If  anyone  has  to  suffer  it's  only  right  that  I 
should. 

Teddie.  What  sort  of  a  life  do  you  think  it  would  be 
with  him.'*  When  two  people  are  married  it's  very  difficult 
for  one  of  them  to  be  unhappy  without  making  the  other 
unhappy  too. 

Elizabeth.    I  can't  take  advantage  of  his  generosity. 

Teddie.    I  daresay  he'll  get  a  lot  of  satisfaction  out  of  it. 

Elizabeth.  You're  being  beastly,  Teddie.  He  was 
simply  wonderful.  I  never  knew  he  had  it  in  him.  He 
was  really  noble. 

Teddie.    You  are  talking  rot,  Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.  I  wonder  if  you'd  be  capable  of  acting  like 
that. 

Teddie.    Acting  like  what.'' 

Elizabeth.  What  would  you  do  if  I  were  married  to 
you  and  came  and  told  you  I  loved  somebody  else  and 
wanted  to  leave  you.? 

Teddie.  You  have  very  pretty  blue  eyes,  Elizabeth. 
I'd  black  first  one  and  then  the  other.  And  after  that 
we'd  see. 

Elizabeth.    You  damned  brute! 

Teddie.  I've  often  thought  I  wasn't  quite  a  gentleman. 
Had  it  ever  struck  you? 

[They  look  at  one  another  for  a  while. 

Elizabeth.     You  know,  you  are  taking  an  unfair  ad- 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  89 

vantage  of  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  came  to  you  quite  unsuspect- 
ingly and  when  I  wasn't  looking  you  kicked  me  on  the 
shins. 

Teddie.  Don't  you  think  we'd  get  on  rather  well 
together? 

PoRTEOUS.  Elizabeth's  a  fool  if  she  don't  stick  to  her 
husband.  It's  bad  enough  for  the  man,  but  for  the  woman 
— it's  damnable.  I  hold  no  brief  for  Arnold.  He  plays 
bridge  like  a  foot.  Saving  your  presence,  Kitty,  I  think 
he's  a  prig. 

Lady  Kitty.  Poor  dear,  his  father  was  at  his  age.  I 
daresay  he'll  grow  out  of  it. 

PoRTEOUS.  But  you  stick  to  him,  Elizabeth,  stick  to 
him.  Man  is  a  gregarious  animal.  We're  members  of  a 
herd.  If  we  break  the  herd's  laws  we  suffer  for  it.  And  we 
suffer  damnably. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  Elizabeth,  my  dear  child,  don't  go. 
It's  not  worth  it.  It's  not  worth  it.  I  tell  you  that,  and 
I've  sacrificed  everything  to  love. 

[J  pause. 

Elizabeth.    I'm  afraid. 

Teddie.    [In  a  whisper.]    Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth.  I  can't  face  it.  It's  asking  too  much  of  me. 
Let's  say  good-bye  to  one  another,  Teddie.  It's  the  only 
thing  to  do.  And  have  pity  on  me.  I'm  giving  up  all  my 
hope  of  happiness. 

[He  goes  up  to  her  and  looks  into  her  eyes. 

Teddie.  But  I  wasn't  offering  you  happiness.  I  don't 
think  my  sort  of  love  tends  to  happiness.  I'm  jealous. 
I'm  not  a  very  easy  man  to  get  on  with.  I'm  often  out  of 
temper  and  irritable.  I  should  be  fed  to  the  teeth  with  you 
sometimes,  and  so  would  you  be  with  me.  I  daresay  we'd 
fight  like  cat  and  dog,  and  sometimes  we'd  hate  each  other. 
Often  you'd  be  wretched  and  bored  stiflF  and  lonely,  and 
often  you'd  be  frightfully  homesick,  and  then  you'd  regret 
all  you'd  lost.  Stupid  women  would  be  rude  to  jou  be- 
cause we'd  run  away  together.    And  some  of  them  w'ould 


90  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

cut  you.  I  don't  offer  you  peace  and  quietness.  I  offer  you 
unrest  and  anxiety.  I  don't  offer  you  happiness.  I  offer 
you  love. 

Elizabeth.  [Stretching  out  her  arms.]  You  hateful 
creature,  I  absolutely  adore  youl 

[He  throws  his  arms  round  her  and  kisses  her  passion- 
ately on  the  lips. 

Lady  Kitty.  Of  course  the  moment  he  said  he'd  give 
her  a  black  eye  I  knew  it  was  finished. 

PoRTEOus.    [Good-humouredly.]    You  are  a  fool,  Kitty. 

Lady  Kitty.    I  know  I  am,  but  I  can't  help  it. 

Teddie.    Let's  make  a  bolt  for  it  now. 

Elizabeth.    Shall  we? 

Teddie.    This  minute. 

PoRTEOus.  You're  damned  fools,  both  of  you,  damned 
fools!     If  you  like  you  can  have  my  car. 

Teddie.  That's  awfully  kind  of  you.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  I  got  it  out  of  the  garage.     It's  just  along  the  drive. 

PoRTEOUS,  [Indignantly.]  How  do  you  mean,  you  got 
it  out  of  the  garage? 

Teddie.  Well,  I  thought  there'd  be  a  lot  of  bother,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  the  best  thing  would  be  for  Elizabeth 
and  me  not  to  stand  upon  the  order  of  our  going,  you 
know.    Do  it  now.    An  excellent  motto  for  a  business  man. 

PoRTEOUS.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  were  going  to 
steal  my  car? 

Teddie.  Not  exactly.  I  was  only  going  to  bolshevise 
it,  so  to  speak. 

Porteous.    I'm  speechless.     I'm  absolutely  speechless. 

Teddie.  Hang  it  all,  I  couldn't  carry  Elizabeth  all  the 
way  to  London.     She's  so  damned  plump. 

Elizabeth.    You  dirty  dog! 

Porteous.  [Spluttering.]  Well,  well,  well!  .  .  .  [Help- 
lessly.] I  like  him,  Kitt}^  it's  no  good  pretending  I  don't. 
I  like  him. 

Teddie.  The  moon's  shining,  Elizabeth.  We'll  drive 
all  through  the  night. 


ACT  III]  THE  CIRCLE  91 

PoRTEOUS.  They'd  better  go  to  San  Michele.  I'll  wire 
to  have  it  got  ready  for  them. 

Lady  Kitty.  That's  where  we  went  when  Hughie  and 
I  .  .  .  [Faltering.]    Oh,  you  dear  things,  how  I  envy  you! 

PoRTEOus.  [Mopping  his  eyes.]  Now  don't  cry,  Kitty. 
Confound  you,  don't  cry. 

Teddie.    Come,  darling. 

Elizabeth.    But  I  can't  go  like  this. 

Teddie.  Nonsense!  Lady  Kitty  will  lend  you  her 
cloak.     Won't  you? 

Lady  Kitty.  [Taking  it  off.]  You're  capable  of  tearing 
it  off  my  back  if  I  don't. 

Teddie.  [Putting  the  cloak  on  Elizabeth.]  And  we'll 
buy  you  a  tooth-brush  in  London  in  the  morning. 

Lady  Kitty.  She  must  write  a  note  for  Arnold.  I'll  put 
it  on  her  pincushion. 

Teddie.  Pincushion  be  blowed!  Come,  darling.  We'll 
drive  through  the  dawn  and  through  the  sunrise. 

Elizabeth.  [Kissing  Lady  Kitty  and  Porteous.] 
Good-bye.     Good-bye. 

[Teddie  stretches  out  his  hand  and  she  takes  it.     Ha^id 
in  hand  they  go  out  into  the  night. 

Lady  Kitty.  Oh,  Hughie,  how  it  all  comes  back  to  me! 
Will  they  suffer  all  we  suffered?  And  have  we  suffered  all 
in  vain  ? 

Porteous.  My  dear,  I  don't  know  that  in  life  it  mat- 
ters so  much  what  you  do  as  what  you  are.  No  one  can 
learn  by  the  experience  of  another  because  no  circum- 
stances are  quite  the  same.  If  we  made  rather  a  hash  of 
things  perhaps  it  was  because  we  were  rather  trivial 
people.  You  can  do  anything  in  this  world  if  you're  pre- 
pared to  take  the  consequences,  and  consequences  depend 
on  character. 

[Enter  Champion-Cheney,  rubbing  his  hands.    He  is 
as  pleased  as  Punch. 

C.-C.  Well,  I  think  I've  settled  the  hash  of  that  young 
man. 


92  THE  CIRCLE  [act  hi 

Lady  Kitty.    Oh ! 

C.-C.  You  have  to  get  up  very  early  in  the  morning  to 
get  the  better  of  your  humble  servant. 

[There  is  the  sound  of  a  car  starting. 

Lady  Kitty.    What  is  that? 

C.-C.  It  sounds  like  a  car.  I  expect  it's  your  chauffeur 
taking  one  of  the  maids  for  a  joy-ride. 

PoRTEOUs.    Whose  hash  are  you  talking  about? 

C.-C.  Mr.  Edward  Luton's,  my  dear  Hughie.  I  told 
Arnold  exactly  what  to  do  and  he's  done  it.  What  makes 
a  prison?  Why,  bars  and  bolts.  Remove  them  and  a 
prisoner  won't  want  to  escape.     Clever,  I  flatter  myself. 

PoRTEOUS.  You  were  always  that,  Clive,  but  at  the 
moment  you're  obscure. 

C.-C.  I  told  Arnold  to  go  to  Elizabeth  and  tell  her  she 
could  have  her  freedom.  I  told  him  to  sacrifice  himself 
all  along  the  line.  I  know  what  women  are.  The  moment 
every  obstacle  was  removed  to  her  marriage  with  Teddie 
Luton,  half  the  allurement  was  gone. 

Lady  Kitty.    Arnold  did  that? 

C.-C.  He  followed  my  instructions  to  the  letter.  I've 
just  seen  him.  She's  shaken.  I'm  willing  to  bet  five 
hundred  pounds  to  a  penny  that  she  won't  bolt.  A 
downy  old  bird,  eh?     Downy's  the  word.     Downy. 

[He  begins  to  laugh.     They  laugh,  too.     Presently  they 
are  all  three  in  fits  of  laughter. 

[The  Curtain  Falls] 


THE    END 


